


Falling in Love

by eternalempires



Category: Batman (Comics), Miraculous Ladybug, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Avian!Mari and Naga!Luka, Cutesy, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Lukanette Week, M/M, Marikim - Freeform, Rare Pairings, Reveal, Sharing a Bed, Witch!Mari and Vampire!Adrien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalempires/pseuds/eternalempires
Summary: Miraculous Oneshots revolving mostly around reveals, soulmate aus, different aus, crossovers and different ships including:The love square,DaminetteMaribat,LukanetteFelinette,Marikim,Nathanette,DJWifi,and other rare ships.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Lê Chiến Kim, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Jason Todd, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Peter Parker, maribat - Relationship
Comments: 18
Kudos: 239





	1. Those Eyes, part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whoscountinganyway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoscountinganyway/gifts).



> We all know that Plagg with Marinette would be chaotic as all hell, like she'd mention a very very bad course of action that would have us all going 'second-hand embarrassment, no!!' but that sarcastic little shit of a Kwami would be like, "Yes!! Do it!!!" because like, after eons of being alive and literally killing the dinos off along with various other disasters you just learn to not care anymore.
> 
> And Adrien with Tikki would be chaotic in a different way. They'd be so?? Productive??? Like, they'd agree on so much and just vibe that it would be pure sunshine magic. Like, there's a reason why they got the humans that they did.
> 
> Enjoy both of them struggling with their switched Miraculous.
> 
> Classified: Fluff.  
> Extra: Angst, Reveal, Frustration.

Those Eyes, part 1:

Marinette shrieked, scrambling past a car that was picked up and thrown in her direction— successfully dodging any debris and sharp objects left over from the Akuma's wake.

At eighteen years old, she knew better than to take off her earrings.

She knew she shouldn't have, even if it was Adrien Agreste who asked her to change them out, promising with his life (as she made him do) that they would be safe in his bag. She knew that having a photo shoot with him and she in her original MDC designs shouldn't have made her heart flutter but it did.

They were modeling together.

God, if the fifteen-year-old her could've predicted this, she would've melted in her spot.

But she didn't.

And she also didn't predict that Hawkmoth would choose absolutely the worst time to put an Akuma out into the streets of Paris, but she wasn't surprised. Her luck as Ladybug never passed over into her life as Marinette— ruler of clumsiness and bad decisions.

Marinette knew she needed to get back to Tikki, she needed to find her earrings and quickly put them on.

She just didn't expect to find the car that Adrien's bag had been in to be completely destroyed with its contents spewed around the street.

Oh, she was screwed.

"Tikki," She hissed, getting onto her knees and ignoring the glass that stuck into her palms as she shifted through all the now unrecognizable car's contents. "Tikki, where are you?"

"Oh, this is golden," A voice cackled from behind her and Marinette whipped around— coming face to face with a tiny black Kwami with glowing green eyes and a long tail. She blinked once, twice, and then noticed the bright silver, almost white ring he was carrying. "You're Sugercube's babybug, huh? Oh, loverboy is going to get a kick out of this."

She gaped, unsure about how to continue.

"Do you have cheese?" He asked, scowling when she shook her head. "Great. What use are you then?"

"Uh..."

This was Chat Noir's Kwami?

He seemed... completely opposite of Tikki.

"Well, aren't you going to torture me now?" He asked, floating up to her face— his sardonic tone deepening as he lazily landed in Marinette's palms as soon as she offered them up to him. "I'm Plagg, by the way. Why did you take the earrings off?"

"Urm, I'm Marinette and Tikki didn't want me to but I kinda... I had this photoshoot thing that I had to switch them out for. So I did."

"Oo! A rule breaker! I like you. My human is a goodie-goodie, unless it comes to you. He's so in love that it's revolting."

"Not good at the emotional stuff, huh?"

"Nah, cheese is my love."

"Oh," Marinette raised an eyebrow. "Not the tiny goddess that calls you Stinky Socks?"

Giving her an eyeroll, Plagg huffed out, "Can you just say 'claws out' already?"

"Is there anything I need to know regarding Chat's powers?"

"Be careful when you're jumping around and moving, it'll look a bit different than usual and you'll be faster." His voice was so bored that she couldn't help but to giggle. "I'm awesome, so you'll also be able to hear a lot better and see in the dark. Also, people will smell."

"Excuse me?" Marinette blinked. "Smell?"

"Yep." The black cat yawned exaggeratingly. "Loverboy says you smell good or whatever. Also, don't ruin everything."

For whatever reason, that made her cheeks flush and Plagg laughed, his cackle creating goosebumps to go over her skin.

He felt powerful— like destruction and death and sadness. He felt like he could destroy the whole world, like he could send it into a proverbial darkness, and Marinette was reminded of Paris drowned in water, and the moon cracked in half in the sky.

It was terrifying.

Plagg was terrifying.

Tikki felt light, like home.

Like life and warmth and creation and happiness. Her power was intimidating, it was skin-tight and heavy and weighed down her shoulders with a burden she never wanted but bore anyways.

Marinette wondered how his magic would feel after she transformed and looked around. The destruction still damaged around her, but she was hidden by three toppled over cars and couldn't see anyone through the cracks.

"Plagg," She slipped the ring onto her middle finger, watching as it turned smaller and shone in a soft sky blue color. "Claws out!"

The power that overwhelmed her made her feel unbalanced, her head swarming like she was twenty feet underwater, the pressure pounding around her in all directions.

Being Ladybug felt suffocating sometimes. It felt like responsibility and trauma walked beside her every day.

But wearing the Black Cat Miraculous?

That felt like drowning.

Like devastation was clinging to her.

How did her kitty deal with this? With feeling demolition wreck havoc through his veins on an almost daily basis?

Ladybug— or well, she couldn't be ladybug anymore— sucked in a harsh breath and looked around. The world was just... in ruins around her but it was more vivid than anything she experienced. The sun shone on everything brighter, the shadows almost nonexistent and the details— god, she was starting to see why Chat stared so much.

Taking her baton into her hands, the young heroine saw that the silver was the same color that the ring had turned into, a soft sky blue, and noted that in the light it glowed with an azure flicker.

Strange.

Turning around with a flinch as a loud boom followed by multiple screams rang throughout the street, the heroine had full intention to join in on the chaos and to hopefully find Chat— until she caught sight of herself in an upside-down car's windshield.

She stood there gaping.

Unsure.

What the...

She wasn't really sure what to expect, maybe an exact replica of Chat's outfit, maybe her outfit as Ladybug but cat-themed but not... not this.

Her eyes were the same color but brighter, the iris having a deep blue ridge to them and the white part of her eyes were a slightly lighter shade. And her pupils— her pupils are slitted!

Wait.

Does that, does that mean that... that Chat's eyes are normal now?

Ignoring that thought, she looked at the rest of her.

The suit was still the same black leather that her partner wore but with an azure shine to it. Around her neck, there was a dark blue bow with three loops made out of what seemed to be a soft and a baby blue bell in the middle.

Around her waist was the same blue ribbon that wrapped around her twice and then swished around her hips and extended towards her ankles in her 'tail'.

Tail.

She had a tail.

Her eyes flew back up to her hair and her wrists instantly shot up to her ears— leather ears exactly like Chat's but they had light blue tips. They flicked and she felt it. She grabbed them with her hands and she squeaked.

How does he live like this?!

Instead of her pigtails, her hair was down to her shoulders with two thin ribbons going down to her bows. Her bangs were still present but the little hairs that used to frame her face on either side of her head and in front of her ears were now three curved whisks of hair that almost made her think they were supposed to resemble whiskers.

Her hands had claws, her wrists had ribbons and a small bow on them, as did her ankles— and her feet were shaped into paws!

Hopping on one foot, she saw the 'toe beans' on the bottom of her sole and squeaked rather loudly again.

She was a cat— a cat!

Her panicking came to an end when the car she was looking at herself was suddenly picked up and— thrown at her.

She heard it moving before she saw it, her ears perking up and dragging forward, her body leaping out of the way as the tension in her body raised. She sensed it coming towards her, somehow being able to feel the immediate area around her— she couldn't stop observing it all.

Oh. Oh. It all makes sense now.

How Chat was always able to see the Akuma or any objects that were about to hit her before she did.

That and she could get so stuck in her head so much that it could be problematic.

Like now, for example.

The Akuma— a giant doll version of Reflekdoll, poor Juleka probably got akumatized again— was throwing things at her and, well, she tried her best to dodge, using her baton and newfound speed and agility to avoid being dangerously squished.

Unfortunately, she was rather clumsy with her new suit and powers.

She tried to listen to what Plagg had said, to be careful, and to be slower but she couldn't. She never got hit by cars or building debris or the giant doll's hands but she flinched at her roars of rage and collided with building edges or other things she underestimated her own ability to stop with.

It would be so much easier if she had her yoyo or her wings to help guide her.

Where was her Chaton when she needed him?

***

Across town in a shady alleyway, Adrien Agreste was smiling brightly at the tiny red and black Kwami who was giving him a soft smile of her own— blue eyes twinkling.

"I can tell why my babybug likes you so much," Tikki said, having found and calmly explained the situation to the blond who she found calling out for Plagg mere minutes before. "You're very polite and sweet, Stink Socks probably complains so much!"

"Thanks," Adrien flushed slightly, wondering if he heard the miniature goddess correctly when she said that her Babybug, Ladybug by omission, liked him. "He's not too bad as long as I give him enough camembert.

"Him and his cheese," Tikki rolled her eyes before focusing them back on him, her smile turning encouraging. "I'm sure Plagg has found M— Ladybug by now. All you have to do is say 'spots on'. I'm positive you'll be able to handle it, Adrien! You've proven to be an amazing Chat Noir, I'm sure you'll be an amazing Ladybug as well!"

"You're... nothing like Plagg."

"I know," The Kwami giggles and strangely enough it reminds him of his lady's giggles— that is until a loud shattering boom went through the air and shook the ground around them and a flash of black and blue went past the alley. "Ready?"

"Not really, but I'll do my best!" Adrien gave a nervous chuckle and then took the earrings into his palms, then turning a darker sheen of red then what the black glowed with originally and the part of them that would go into the holes turned into cuffs.

When he put them on, he tugged, delighted in the way they were tight enough to never fall off unless physically torn from his ears.

"Alright, Tikki, spots on!"

Adrien didn't expect the warmth that encased him.

Usually, the magic that he got from Plagg felt cold and secure, like a protective darkness hiding him from the loneliness, giving him the freedom to run through the night without fear of the isolation waiting for him at home.

Tikki's magic felt heavy, like burning alive— and suddenly he understood the burden that had been placed onto his lady's shoulders and the strictness in her eyes.

There was no room for mistakes.

The world was in her palms, she had become Atlas at thirteen and never complained once. She had taken up the mantle with wariness and a proud stance and she held it so tightly that she never dropped it once.

He sucked in a breath, almost doubling over with the weight of it all.

Ladybug— for five years— felt this unyielding responsibility? She did this and put off with him, him who teased and goofed around and made mistakes? Him who had admittedly gotten better over time but still flirts and is playful on the field?

How did she deal with that?!

Fortunately, he didn't have to think long about that being a giant doll stopped at the edge of the alleyway, turned to him as he shuffled back and roared.

He saw his own reflection in the shiny face— a maroon suit with black details and a black mask, his hair the same mess, and the yoyo around his waist. Thick wings were on his back, he could feel them twitch and scuffle as they opened in surprise. Ladybug had wings, he didn't know why he expected not to.

His eyes were wide and so normal that it took him a second too long to realize they were coming closer.

Because the doll was moving closer, making his reflection do the same.

Why couldn't he sense it?

Why did everything look so... so familiar? No extra sight, no extra hearing. How did Ladybug do this— how could she fight while being so normal?

God, he always had a lot of respect for her but now he has even more.

Shooting into the air, the yoyo automatically swung in his hand as he used it to volt himself into the sky, having seen his lady do so so many times it was almost second nature. Once he got over the doll, she shrieked in agitation— looking like Reflekdoll— and moved her clanky, large body to try and grab him.

Chat, however, if he could even call himself that anymore, opened his wings with some experimentation and flapped them a couple of times, not expecting the power they held and went so far into the sky that the sight could rival their rendezvous point on the Eiffel tower.

He tried to drift right but ended up volting upside down and catching a large gust of wind that sent him backward, wings snapping painfully straight.

The hero yelped and desperately, yet futility, clawed at the air.

Where was his lady when he needed her?

***

The young heroine was just thinking she got the hang of how to run across the rooftops with her accelerated speed— having failed and either trip or face-planted into a chimney here or there— but a masculine yelp came from above her and she looked up just in time to see the panicked face of her partner before the deep red-suited boy with long wings crashed into her.

They went flying, both rolling as their bodies tangled together, the cold tiles of the roof underneath them not hurting but definitely not pleasant as they came to a stop a couple of seconds after.

She groaned, feeling his familiar and hard body underneath hers.

She wanted him to be there with her, of course, but that didn't mean she wanted him to tackle her after being airborne.

"Chat," She struggles to detangle her arms from around him, his wings crowding them more than the usual present-battle entanglement. She was grateful though for this moment, he was warm and soothing and Tikki's magic felt like a breath of fresh air. "Why would you—"

Why would you try to fly?

She was going to ask, seeing as that's most likely how he literally fell out of the sky and onto her but then, then something horrifying happened.

She started to purr.

"Eek!" She shot up, arms painfully pulling out of their spot as she desperately tried to crawl away from her partner. "No, no, no, no—"

"Milady," Chat's teasing voice froze her but, unfortunately, made the purring all the much louder and she snapped her eyes up to meet his startlingly normal eyes. "Are you doing that because of me?"

"N-no! No, of course not, that would be, that would be, uh—"

She tried to focus on what she was saying, her lie so obvious, but then that stupid cat put a gentle hand into her hair and started to massage her scalp, petting her so softly that her purrs echoed.

Why did that make her feel so warm inside and why did it feel so good?

"Aw, my little kitten." Chat cooed out. "So adorable. You're happy to see me, hm?"

"Hm— ah, n-no." The heroine leaned into his palm, forgetting about their surroundings as she melted into his touch— that is until a prickling sensation shook her whole body and she heard the faintest scrape of metal against the ground.

Her eyes flew open again and she jerked back into a sitting position, eyes snapping to the right as her hackles raised. Another stupid car was coming right at them! Without much thought, the heroine pushed her partner down onto the opposite side of the roof, rolling down after him just as the vehicle smashed into the building.

Okay.

So this Akuma was the murderous kind.

Not the trap or trick kind.

Nice to know.

"Okay, we have to lure her towards the Seine," She jumped into her usual serious mode, jumping to her feet and unaware that her tail was swishing behind her. "That way there's less of those stupid cars to throw. I'm pretty sure everyone is to safety by now but we still don't want her damaging buildings due to the people inside."

"Ladybug— er, I mean... what do I call you now?" Chat asked, standing up and stretching his wings, and then almost falling over again due to the wind and some building chunks the muttering Akuma was chucking at them.

"Uh, I don't know, you pick." She said half mindlessly, blocking hits for both of them. "It looks like a bigger version of when Juleka got Akumatized but I haven't seen anything that could be the object and trust me, I've been thrown around enough to catch all of her."

"Bluebell Kitten," He said, pointing to the bell in the middle of her bow. "And are you okay? Did you have trouble using the baton?"

"No, the baton is easy, it's the stupid senses thing! How can you focus on anything?" The apparent kitten asked, pointing towards the Eiffel tower. "And for the record, I regret giving you the choice to choose, Scarlet Beetle."

"Ah, nice name." He grinned, heeding to her signal, and started to run in that direction. "I don't know, it just comes naturally. Makes sense it would be overwhelming for you, though. You get no extra senses at all, I don't know how you fight like this."

"Quite easily," Bluebell Kitten quipped. "And just wait until you use my charm, it'll definitely knock you off your feet."

"That's okay," Scarlet beetle helped her keep the right face and sent her a wink that sent her tail wagging embarrassingly. "It'll just be another way I fell for you."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that made its appearance. "You ready for this, buggy?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, kitten."

The battle went by with a little struggle— Scarlet Beetle having to help Bluebell Kitten with her speed, showing her the best way to stop or how to adjust her eyes to focus properly on what she was doing and about the new depth perception she had. In return, the bug turned cat helped the still flirty boy fly better, teaching him how to find the right air currents and how to land— but the heroine could tell her partner struggled with the Miraculous.

It was a different kind of struggle than she had with his.

Sure, Plagg's magic was uncomfortable and too light and just wrong against her skin but Tikki with her kitty? Not a good mix.

He struggled to understand that he couldn't take any hits for her— that that was the Kitten's responsibility now.

That, no matter how much he wanted to save her, he couldn't do anything that would put himself incapacitated or at a greater risk. They could defend each other but he was the last line of defense— they were a team but he mattered more.

He was the only one that could heal those hurt, that could fix things that were broken.

"Minou," She had sighed out, blue eyes sparring her partner a glance as she distracted and he tried to figure out what his lucky charm meant. "No self-sacrificing today, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Scarlet Beetle had asked, frowning as he spun his yoyo in a circle to block some rumble from hitting him.

"It's not your job to protect me right now. It's your job to survive long enough to defeat the Akuma and fix everything."

"But—"

"No buts. You can't put yourself at risk, even for me. Understood?"

Begrudgingly, the blond-haired boy nodded and they settled their full attention back into the battle. Within minutes it was done, both of them have used their powers and able to return poor Juleka back to the Couffaine boathouse after fist-bumping and answering Alya's question when she stormed up to them for a report on the Ladyblog.

The heroine could tell that her poor bug was still upset, having witnessed her take a couple blows that he hadn't seen coming— being more unattentive than usual and not able to sense as much.

She had broken ribs but still fought by his side.

Broken ribs were nothing compared to what he went through before, she had told herself. He had died before, she wasn't as unlucky.

"Chaton," The Kitten grabbed his wrist, stopping him from where they were running on a roof, his earring cuffs beeping letting them know he only had three minutes left, her ring was at four. It had been roughly twenty minutes since they used their powers; more time from being older and getting more powers and mature suits. "I'm sorry that today was bad for you."

"I'm just... I'm not used to not being able to protect you, milady." He grumbled with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't like it."

"It was only for today," She reminded softly. "And I know how you feel but you just— you have to remind yourself that what happened, how I was hurt, wasn't your fault. I know you would've protected me if you could have. That's one of the burdens of having the Ladybug Miraculous."

Scarlet Beetle just frowns at her and she sighs, reaching up a hand to softly cup his cheek.

"It's okay, Kitty," She smiles. "I'm fine now, aren't I?"

"Is this how it's like for you?" He questions, shiny green eyes flickering between her own. "Feeling helpless? Just watching and unable to save... I was unable to save you. I can't, I can't do that again—"

Scarlet cuts himself off with a choking sound, hand clenching by his side with tears in his eyes. He trembled slightly and the Kitten felt her ears press flat as she recognized the terror in his eyes.

"Come here," She holds her arms open, offering a hug and her boy is quick to take the opportunity and wrap himself into her gentle hold. "I know that was a hard fight but you're not going to lose me, okay? Never. You're stuck with me now, I'm not going to leave you or get hurt and not be there. I promise."

"Promise," He wiggles until his arm is free and holds out his pinky, the action so adorable that she can't help but to giggle as she lifts her own hand and intertwines her pinky with his.

Beeps echo through the night and Bluebell pulls away, running a hand through Scarlet's hair to make it even messier. She ruffled the spots his ears would normally be and smiled when the strands fluffed up and stuck up into different angles.

"We have to go, Minou." She boops his nose. "Meet me in our hotel room tower tonight, we'll switch back to normal."

"Okay," He gives her a goofy smile. "What does Tikki like to eat?"

"Chocolate chip cookies, or just sweets in general. Plagg likes cheese, right?"

"Really! Cookies are so much better than stinky camembert— which I'm guessing he mentioned. Do you, urm, even have that?"

"My dad's secretly a cheese fanatic, I'm sure I can smuggle some of the good stuff from him." Bluebell tilted her head slightly, eyeing his wings. "Don't fly if you're going into a window or something narrow because, and no offense, you're not good enough to avoid smacking into it and breaking something."

"I take full offense," He winks. "See you Milady."

"See you, kitty."


	2. Those Eyes, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the two lovelies having their Miraculous switched~
> 
> Classified: Fluff  
> Extra: Angst, Reveal, Frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plagg and Marinette's dynamic will never fail to amuse me.

Those Eyes, part 2 (and final)

"Can you keep me?" Plagg asked, staring dreamily at the gruyere cheese that the young heroine had given him shortly after she detransformed and made it back home— and after he laughed about the pictures of all her friends including Adrien and Chat Noir on her walls. "I know I called you mushy and sentimental but this is even better than camembert!"

Marinette laughs and shakes her head, "Sorry Plagg, I prefer Tikki. I don't like smelling like cheese." Even if gruyere smelled quite a lot better than camembert.

"Ugh, humans." The Kwami grumbles. "So fickle. You just wanna smell good for loverboy. I think that cheese smells amazing, for the record."

"Your opinion has been noted." She nods to him. "And I don't want to smell good for Chat!"

"Mhm," Plagg rolled his eyes. "Sure."

"I'm not!"

"I totally believe you, kid."

"You're horrible," She grumbles.

"Yeah, yeah. Feed me some more."

"No."

"Feed me!"

"Stop yelling or I'm telling Tikki you were being mean to me."

"Hey!" Plagg turned to her with glaring green eyes. "Don't bring Sugarcube into this."

Marinette turned to him and raised an eyebrow, "Then don't bring my kitty into this."

"Aw," He snickered. "You called him your kitty. He'll get a kick out of that."

"Plagg, claws out!" Marinette flushed a bright red and a green light encased her.

Time to go visit her kitty— because he is hers, no matter Plagg's teasing.

Across town in a lonely room, Adrien was laughing so hard his stomach was hurting and tears were coming out of his eyes. He was practically wheezing at this point, curled up as he tried to catch his breath— something that, at this point, was useless.

He had managed to convince Tikki to try some of Plagg's camembert.

And the little Kwami quite honestly looked like she was going to throw up, cheeks going almost a purple as she grimaced and gagged.

It shouldn't have been as funny as it was but Adrien couldn't help it.

Tikki was so different than Plagg and the simple fact that she looked like she was ready to die right then and there from the mere taste of the black cat's favorite food was one of the funniest things he has ever seen.

"Haha," She said, voice light but disgusted as she tried to cover up the taste with chocolate— which, by her expression, he could tell did not blend well. "Now you have to try it. Fair is fair."

"No!" He choked on a chuckle. "Plagg has tried to feed me it so many times and succeeded. I don't need to smell like that cheese more than I already do!"

"Hmph," Tikki crossed her arms and floated up to his face. "I'm going to tell baby bug you tried to poison me."

Adrien gaped, "You wouldn't."

The miniature goddess giggled, "You're right, but your expression was worth it!"

"You're so much nicer than Plagg, I can see why Ladybug loves you so much," He commented, blinking slightly at the little Kwami's stupefied expression. "She's talked about you before. I didn't know your name or anything but a couple of times during patrol she mentioned how, well... how she was so grateful you were his best friend."

"Really?" Tikki gave an excited smile that only widened as Adrien nodded.

"Really really."

"Well, she's the best Ladybug I've had. The youngest too." Her smile goes softer with a tender look only a being as long as she had lived could have. "I don't know how she does it all, but despite all she thinks about herself, she's a very resourceful little bug. I couldn't be prouder of her. Or of you, Adrien! Plagg loves you, even if the stinky socks won't admit it."

"Thank you. He purrs when I hug him, even if he yells at me."

"Does he really?" Tikki laughed joyfully. "I'll have fun teasing him about that."

"I thought you were the one that got teased?" Adrien tilted his head to the side.

"It goes both ways," She reassured. "He's just better at it."

"I see. Did he really kill all the dinosaurs?"

"And the doo-doo birds."

"No!" He gasped. "Evil."

"Laziness and distractions," The kwami corrected, lifting a solemn paw. "He was different back then. Less happy."

"Less happy?" Adrien questioned.

He always assumed that cheese was the only thing that made Plagg truly happy, well, until he met Tikki and she had shared a couple of stories, telling him about all the interesting things they've been through together.

"Yeah," Tikki gave him a sad smile. "We've been around since the dawn of creation, Adrien, we've seen countless civilizations and being rise and fall, empires turned to nothing more than ash. We've seen evil rise and good defend time and time again. My bugs... they are always smart, always compassionate people. Sometimes gentle and sweet like your lady is. Sometimes not. But they all— each and every single one of them— see horribly traumatizing things that Plagg's holders do not, they get torn apart from the inside out. But his kittens? They get hurt more. They risk more. They die more and they die first. Always. And he dies with them a bit each time."

"That's..."

Adrien didn't even know what that was, the only thing that came to mind was— sad.

"I know," She gave him that motherly smile of hers, tone soft and soothing but with a note of sadness to it. "You don't have to say it. Plagg takes a long time to open up to someone. He doesn't like acting close, he doesn't like being close— he said that it hurts less that way. But I know that it hurts the same, that it hurts even more. That he wants more time with them, I know I always do."

"I can't speak for anyone but myself," The young hero says. "But I know that whenever I go, I will want more time with him, too."

Tikki fixes him with a sweet look in her eye, "That'll mean a lot to Stinky Socks. Could you tell him that?"

"Of course," Adrien gives her one of his bright smiles— one that's actually real. "It's almost time to meet Milady at our room, are you all energized?"

Their room was at Le Grand Paris, paid for by Major Bourgeois after he assured the two heroes that there would be no supervallince, no one allowed on that floor (the very top) without their explicit permission and that they could come there at any time, the balcony always unlocked.

Chloe told them that it was a gift to her favorite superhero and 'friend' of all time.

Ladybug gave a weak smile and scowled once whom she considered to be a nuisance looked away.

Besides Chloe beings, well... Chloe, Adrien had no clue what she could've done to make his lady hate her so much. They interacted once every couple months due to her causing an Akuma, so maybe that was it but the dislikement Ladybug had for the girl seemed to go beyond that.

It seemed personal.

"Yep! Take me back to my baby bug, please." Tikki smiles at him.

Returning the look, Adrien calls out, "Spots on!" And is encased into a burning, dark red light before the same maroon suit and dark wings flexed against his skin.

Scarlet beetle sighed.

Oh, how he couldn't wait to see his lady.

***

Arriving at Le Grand Paris, Bluebell Kitten knew that her partner was already inside based on the precariously left open door and an album from Jagged Stone that she could hear extraordinarily well even from outside.

She, expecting to be able to stop, landed onto the balcony and put away her baton— only for her clumsy feet to stumble due to her speed and she crashed right through the open door, thankful that he left it open.

Then for the second time that day, the two heroes crashed into each other before slamming into the floor, the Kitten on top of the beetle and both bright red, bodies tangled up and so close that she couldn't tell where she ended and he started.

"H-hey, Milady." He, for some reason, chuckled and cupped the back of her head, holding her gently as he shifted slightly underneath her. "That eager to be bugged by me, huh?"

"Chaton," The heroine scowled, pushing herself onto her elbows as she rests peacefully against her chest. "Aren't you punned out for the day?"

"When am I ever punned out, little kitten?"

Bluebell shrieks as a purr loudly announces her appreciation— that she otherwise would've been able to hide— for the pet name and she scrambled back as that stupid blond started to laugh.

"Chat!" She covers her mouth with both hands, desperately trying to stop both her blush and the noise coming from her as it only grows thanks to her useless partner pulling her back onto him with a wicked grin. "Make it stop! How do I make it stop?"

"I don't know if I want to help you with this, Milady," He bites the inside of his cheek. "I quite like you not being able to hide how you feel."

The purr in her chest turned into a soothing, almost constant rumble and she pouted.

"Yeah, well, I don't." The words seemed to vibrate in her throat and she swallowed the odd tickling feeling down. "I purr, Chaton. Purr! And every time I look at you my stupid tail wants to act up! Why? Because it hates me."

"No," He grinned. "Because you loooove me."

Flushing deeply, she buries her head into her hands— deciding that's not enough and then buries it into his chest to hide the red-stained cheeks but Scarlet Beetle only laughs, telling her he saw it already.

"Come on, Bugaboo. I'm just teasing you."

"I don't like this."

"But you like me."

"Chat!"

"What? I didn't do anything." His laugh deepens and she can feel it in her own chest, being that close to him. That traitorous purr only gets louder. Stupid, stupid cat instincts. Why can't she enjoy the sound of his laugh without him knowing? Was that too much to ask?

"Just give me my miraculous back, you silly tomcat," Bluebell grumbles, successfully sitting up this time, the purr quieting when Scarlet Beetle puts his hands back to his sides. "And don't tease my purring!"

"Why not?" He pouts. "You tease my purring."

"That's different," She whines. "You're cute when you do it. It's just weird for me too! I don't want to be able to hear your heart beating— wait!" She stared at him in wide-eyed horror. "Do you... do you usually hear that good?"

"Yeah?" The hero gives her a weird look. "But I learned to ignore it, why?"

"No reason." She sighs, looking away from her partner as she scrambles off of him, both standing up and a foot apart. "Point is, I'm a cat person but I don't want to be a cat."

"I rather like seeing you as a cat," His comment earns a dry look.

"I'm sure you just love seeing me prance around in leather but I like being Ladybug, not a kitty."

"But you're my kitten," Beetle's pout returns, and his green eyes widen innocently— almost as bad as Manon's when she wants something.

The longer she stared into his eyes, the more familiar they became.

Not because they were Chat's eyes, no— she's seen her partner's slitted gaze thousands of times. She's seen him look at her a thousand times with that look in his eyes, too. The look that got her heart racing and the 'what ifs' to drag through her mind.

But these eyes?

And that expression?

She saw it somewhere else, on someone else.

All she can do is stare blankly at him, mind reeling.

No... no, it can't be him— Chat can't be—

But he could.

The missed classes, the poor excuses, the exhaustion, the secret gaze, the trusting of her civilian self. Blonde hair, green eyes. Bad father. Kind, selfless, smart. Lonely. The gentlest soul she has ever met.

Everything just clicked.

The thing they had been dancing around for years just feel into place looking into those eyes— eyes she used to be too nervous to look into. Eyes she tripped over, eyes she used to be in love with; eyes she still was in love with.

Raising a shaking hand to his cheek, she caressed it softly before bringing it up to his hair and brushing the strands back. He watched her, curious gaze intense as they locked eyes.

"Adrien?"

The name passed her lips so softly, so assured, and her kitty flinched in surprise, wide eyes filling first with confusion, then panic, and then with questions.

"How did you..."

She fell for him once under the hood of an umbrella and a sincere apology, with thunder and lightning crashing around then in the downpour but she didn't mind. She wasn't the only thing in Paris that day that felt so heavy that she could scream and she didn't mind. She fell in love with the sweet boy with good grades and a sadness trapped into a smile. She fell in love with the boy who did everything he could to make his father happy, to help people. She fell in love with the boy beyond the good boy, perfect model facade he put on.

She fell in love with Adrien Agreste at fifteen.

She fell in love with him again at eighteen but it was different this time. There was no lightning, no quick strike of feelings and amazement and warmth. No, it was like swimming in shallow waters only to get swept up in the tides, completely trusting the water to keep her safe.

She fell in love with the puns, with the goofy smile and flicking ears and curious green eyes. She fell in love with her best friend, her partner. She fell in love with the boy in the mask, the one who supported her whenever she needed it and held her even when she didn't. She fell in love with his sensitive heart and sharp mind.

She fell in love with Chat Noir.

And ever since then she's been falling all over the place, enamored over everything he did. She fell and fell and fell. There were so many things to love about him— both sides of him.

How couldn't she see it before?

Because, honestly, who else could've been good enough to be Chat Noir?

"Your eyes," She murmured almost absentmindedly, looking between the verdant orbs. "They're usually darker and slitted. Cats eyes. But... but these eyes? These are Adrien Agreste's eyes. I know these eyes, they're beautiful."

She could hear his heart racing and she could see the almost begging way he looked at her. She could see the tension in his body, the way he could so easily shrink in on himself.

"And is... is being Adrien okay?" The hero questioned, wincing slightly as he looked away from her. "Are you disappointed that it's me?"

"Of course not," She giggled and that stupid purr still hadn't left. "You're you. How could that ever disappoint me, Chaton?"

"I don't know... I'm not, I don't— do I know you?" Adrien— Chat— questioned, shuffling on his feet as he leaned into her touch. "Outside of the mask, I mean?"

She felt the purring stop and her ears went back. She retracted her hand slowly to her cheek and hugged herself around the middle. She looked down at the wings opened anxiously against his back, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face.

"Yeah," The heroine nods. "We're friends."

Friends.

That's all they were.

Chat Noir and Adrien were in love with Ladybug— not her.

She wasn't elegant or agile, she tripped over her feet three times a day and could be so unorganized and forgetful that she drove herself insane. She wasn't too confident and she was far from brave.

Marinette wasn't like Ladybug.

She wasn't... she wasn't that perfect girl Chat made her out to be.

Adrien was her friend, they hung out and could have good conversations but she noticed that he avoided her slightly, almost like he was disgusted by her. Like she made him uncomfortable.

Like he couldn't stand her, even if he was polite.

It was almost like how she acted the first year they knew each other but he seemed more... wary, like she had done something to offend him and he was just waiting for her to realize or talk to him about it.

Would he be disappointed that she's Ladybug?

Angry, even?

"Why do you look so sad, bugaboo?" Adrien asks, concern touching his tone. "Did you— do you not want to be my friend?"

When she looked at him, her poor partner looked ready to drop with worry and she gave a watery chuckle, just realizing there were tears in her eyes.

"Sorry," She rubs the wetness away, almost poking herself with the claws. "I just... you don't like me much. The civilian me, anyway. I don't want you to be upset that it's me."

"There are very few people I don't like," He frowned. "And none of them have blue hair, or blue eyes, or your smile. Who are you?"

Bluebell lowered her eyes, "You won't hate me?"

It's always been a fear of hers— Chat finding out who she actually was and leaving her, being disgusted. How could an insecure klutz like that protect Paris? How could he trust the girl who couldn't get three good sentences out to him to talk down an Akuma or soothe one of the victims with her tone?

How could he still love her, knowing the girl underneath the mask?

Ladybug was stunning.

Marinette was just... Marinette.

"I couldn't even if I tried," Adrien reassured her, wringing his hands together in such a cute, unlike-Chat that she giggled. "Can I detransform?"

"Sure," She took a step back again, nervous for no reason at all.

It was just Chat, just her partner. Just the boy she's been in love with for the last five years.

No big deal.

None whatsoever.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "You look like you're going to cry. Oh no, I'm so sorry! I knew you wouldn't like that I was Adrien! God, I'm so stupid—"

"Stop being mean to yourself!" She snapped. "I care about you, both sides! I care that you're Adrien because you make me a little nervous but it's nothing bad, I promise! I just have, urm... it's a lot to process."

"...Understandable." He swallowed, then said, "Spots off."

A flash of red consumed Scarlet Beetle and in his place stood Adrien, hair neater and muscular body less accentuated in his, ironically, ladybug-themed sweater and jeans that she knew he wore to school.

It was Adrien Agreste.

Her friend Adrien Agreste.

Bluebell knew that— of course, she knew that but seeing it... it took her breath away.

Tikki floated between the two heroes with wide eyes, glancing to her baby bug and then back to the blond. She had no clue what was happening and her holder dreaded the lecture she'd get later of the importance of keeping their identities a secret.

With slightly narrowed eyes but an encouraging smile, Tikki went over to the other side of the room where the cookies were at and started to eat.

She could feel the Kwami's eyes on her and the anxiety creeping around her veins pulsed viciously.

Taking a deep breath, she looked Adrien in the eyes— and then purred.

Loudly.

Horrifyingly loud.

When will this nightmare end?!

"Eep!" She stumbles back, flushing. "I don't mean to, I swear!"

Adrien gives her that bemused smile, one usually reserved for Marinette after she did something weird or awkward, and chuckles, "It's okay, Milady. No judgment here."

"Thanks." She said, still covering her cheeks.

"Are you, um... going to detransform, too?"

She knows that Adrien— Chat— has wanted to know who she was since the day they met. She wanted to know too but the fear of Hawkmoth getting to them outweighed the desire.

But thinking about it and actually telling him were two different things.

"I meant what I said," Bluebell told him, voice steady but wary. "You avoid me and... and the way you look at me— we're friends but just don't... don't get your hopes up that I'm someone you'll like."

"I already know I like you, with or without the mask." He reassured, that usual comforting smile on his lips that got him that sunshine-boy reputation. "So please, bugaboo? I really want to know who you are."

She bit her lip, holding her breath for a couple of seconds as she held herself in place too, leaning against the wall beside the windows.

She felt trapped, worried, but also excited.

She wanted him to know, even if she was scared.

She was far enough away from him, she could probably make it to the window and escape if he looked absolutely revolted by her.

She's faced rejection before.

She could do it again.

Even if it would hurt really, really bad.

"Claws in." She said, face turned to the ground as she trembled.

Oh God, there was no turning back now.

The soft baby blue light surrounded her, the drowning, beating wave-like power of the Miraculous leaving her as Plagg appeared in the air next to her arm— him being tackled by Tikki before he could even say anything, followed by a loud 'shush' from the Kwami.

Marinette stood there, shoulders raised with tension, and her heart pounding behind her ears. She had the strongest urge to hide her face from view, to run away from all of this.

From his reaction.

"You're... you're Marinette," Adrien said this slowly. He got a nod in reply. "And you think that I— Adrien Agreste— don't like you?"

She gave another nod, not trusting her voice to speak.

She couldn't even look at him. How pathetic could she get?

"I don't hate you, Mari," He said this and Marinette shyly looked up, flushing at the look of adoration on his face. He could still look at her like that? How? "I always noticed how uncomfortable I made you, I was just giving you space. I didn't mean to make you upset, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," She rubs her arms and looks away again. "You don't make me uncomfortable, just nervous."

"Why?" Adrien questioned, voice almost cracking. "Do I intimidate you or something?"

Marinette couldn't help it. She laughed.

"Intimidate me?" This is said with a giggle and she makes her amused eyes meet his. "You think you're intimidating? Cute."

"Hey," His tone turned slightly offended and she bit her lip as he pouted. "I can be intimidating and scary."

"Yeah?" She teases, leaning forward with that twinkle in her eyes— playful like how she could be with Chat. Because this was Chat. "Do it. Be scary. Intimidate me, 'o frightening one."

"Urm, I d-don't think I can right now. You're you."

"Does your brain feel like it's going to explode?" Marinette asks, blue clashing with green as she tilts her head to the side.

"Kinda," Adrien admits sheepishly. "I'm still trying to understand why you get nervous around me."

"Uh," She blinks, a sheepish smile coming onto her face. "I know you're in love with Ladybug but— but I'm not her, I'm not that great. I'm just me. And you think of me— Marinette— as a friend. But... I've kind of been in love with you since Dupont?"

"You what?"

"Been in love with you," Marinette's face burned. "Since I was about thirteen. I hated you at first, you were friends with Chloe and the gum on my seat didn't help but then I noticed how kind you were. Smart, selfless. Lonely, too but you don't like talking about that so I'm sorry for mentioning it— I just, I fell in love with you and that's why you always made me nervous because I didn't think you could love me back."

"Marinette," Adrien looks at her, tenderness and seriousness oddly mixed in his gaze as he slowly walked towards her. "I've been in love with you from the second we met. And don't say that you're not Ladybug because you are, both inside and outside of the mask. You help people, you protect them. You're passionate and strong and stubborn and I love you. I don't know how many times I'll have to say it before you believe me but I'll do it until then and even after. I love you. I love you so much that it hurts— mph!"

With slight tears pricking her eyes, Marinette closed the distance between them and wrapped him into a tight hug, his now familiar body both making her feel calm and make her heart race.

"I love you too."

Adrien sighs contently, wrapping his arms around her too. He held her gently but tightly, not willing to let her go but not risking hurting her— not that the silly kitty could.

Suddenly he chuckles and says, "That explained why you purred."

"I said not to tease me!" She whined, pulling back enough that she could look up at him with narrowed eyes. "You're so mean, Chaton."

"And you're stunning, Bugaboo."

The comment made Marinette squeak and dunk her head, desperate to get her blush out of his eyesight— but a soft yet collapsed hand holding lightly onto her chin stopped the action, Adrien bringing her eyes back up to look at him.

"You believe me when I say that, yes?" He asks. "Because I mean it. Everything about you is gorgeous, I don't know how I didn't realize the two girls I fell in love with were the same one."

"It's because we're both stupid," She giggles, steering the conversation away from compliments, unsure of how much warmer her face could get before she combusted. "But I also blame your hair."

"My hair?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Mhm," She hums, reaching up to play with the soft strands as she had done so hundreds of times before. "You always have it so neat but as Chat it's messy."

"I like it better that way," He explains, a slight purr to his voice. "It's more comfortable."

"Both styles are equally cute, so you're lucky." She murmurs absentmindedly, still focused on his hair, ruffling it slightly with a smile. Then she notices the ear cuffs he had on and blinked in surprise. "Are those my earrings?"

"Huh?" Adrien blinks his eyes open and Marinette giggles at his dazed expression. Even without the ring, he was her silly kitty who liked to be pet and cuddled. "Oh, yeah. They changed when I touched them."

"Your ring did too," She shows him. "It was weird, I thought it would've stayed silver."

"Yeah, me too," He poked the ring and then gently slides it off of her finger, putting it on his own before reaching up for the earrings and giving them back to their rightful owner who puts them off and sighs in relief.

This magic was familiar— this magic was warm and like home and tight enough to keep her safe, not like swimming in an open ocean and gasping for air only for her lungs to fill with water instead.

"Mari?"

"Yes?" She looks up at him, seeing questions in his verdant eyes.

"Have you, um, seen something bad that I haven't?"

It was admittedly a weird question, one that through her off guard but one that also made her think of the word drowned in water and dust, of the Eiffel tower toppled over, of watching herself crumple and fade, of seeing the moon cracked open in the sky and a boy in white with blue, crying eyes and a broken soul.

It made her think of how she saved him— but how she hadn't saved her Chaton all those times, how she watched him die and fade and get captured and tortured and taken control of.

It made her think of the trauma of watching her city burn and the people in it all relying on her since the tender age of thirteen to save them all.

It made her think of all the times she had to protect everyone by herself because she lost Chat after he risked everything to save her.

Realizing she got lost in thought, Marinette startled and focused back onto her partner, "Yes, but don't worry Minou. I can handle it."

"I want you to be able to talk to me about those things," Adrien murmured softly. "Tikki told me that all her Ladybugs live through things Chat Noirs don't— but we're a team. I want to share that burden with you."

She sighed— and then she told him about Chat Blanc, she told him about how Paris drowned under the weight of their love three years ago and she's been scared for him ever since, she told him about all of it.

By the end, they were both in tears and holding onto each other.

A weight feels like it was lifted off of her shoulders, like she was light enough to just float. It felt good talking about it, to let go all of that terror and heartache she accumulated over the years.

"You're stronger than I ever knew," Adrien kisses her forehead, and her heart flutters. "I'm so proud of you, my little kitten."

"Adrien," She whines, hiding her face into his shoulder. "Stop."

"Stop what?" He chuckles, lightening the mood. He always had a way of doing that. "Complimenting you?"

"Yes, I'm not used to it!" Marinette exclaimed. "You're making me blush too much!"

"What if that's my goal?"

"Then it's a bad goal."

"Meow-ch, Princess." Adrien puts a hand over his heart. "You hurt me so, but fine. If that's a bad goal, then what's a good one?"

Feeling brave, she shoots him a wide smirk, "Kissing you until you're breathless."

He just stares at her, gaping as he blinks.

"What, Kitty?" She teases, leaning closer. "You flirt all the time but can't take it?"

"No, it's j-just... I completely support that goal."

Laughing, Marinette rolls his eyes before cupping his face and kissing him— the feeling of his soft lips on hers sending a shiver down her spine. It was passionate and slow and loving, a kiss that told both of them all they had been feeling for these years.

It was a kiss that told them no matter what happened, they'd be okay.

So they kissed, again and again until they lost reality.

Going through the pain of having their Miraculous switched was worth it.

~THE END~


	3. A Tight Fit. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir did the unthinkable.  
> He betrayed not only Ladybug but the city of Paris and abandoned his role as a hero, trading it out for Hawkmoth's sidekick.  
> No one knows why.  
> No one knows what his goal is.  
> No one has forgiven him.  
> And no one was hurt more than Marinette Dupain-Cheng by this far from innocent betrayal. So what happens when she gets trapped with him and she gets all the answers she has been asking for the last couple months and learns something heartbreaking?  
> Well, maybe it's time for a certain butterfly to be crushed underneath her red, spotted foot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classification: Angst, reveal, and fluff with a side of forgiveness and heartbreak.  
> Part 1 of 3 (maybe only 2?)  
> Enjoy!

The day Chat Noir switched sides to fight alongside Hawkmoth is not one Ladybug or Paris would ever forget.

She lost her partner, her best friend.

She lost the boy she was in love with— the one who had been by her side for three years, just like that. No warning, no answers as to why, no apologies.

For a while, the heroine was filled with grief and confusion. Now she’s just filled with sadness. She couldn’t trust anyone and recoiled from physical affection. She didn’t smile or laugh and the red cherry of her suit turned sullen and maroon. She was still kind and dutiful in her responsibilities as Paris’ now lone savior, but there was always this gaping hole inside of her, the air next to her lackluster.

Everything inside of her missed her silly kitty, even if he isn’t hers anymore.

Everyone notices, too.

Whether she was Ladybug who got sympathetic looks and half-muttered out apologies by anyone who saw her— no one daring to say his name in her presence, or if she was Marinette who grew quiet and withdrawn.

She didn’t know how to exist in a world where Chat Noir wasn’t by her side.

Alya— the ever persistent, observational Alya— noticed. Of course she did. Who wouldn’t notice their best friend go from happy and loving so sad and unexcitable? Even Adrien, who for some reason also became despondent, and Nino noticed.

She asked and she pleaded and begged to know what was wrong, if she could help and finally, in the middle of a breakdown, Marinette told her. She told her that she was Ladybug, she told her of the scars that covered her mind and body. She told her that she lost Chat and that she didn’t know why.

Perhaps that’s what hurt the most— the not knowing.

It left her wondering.

Did she do something wrong, did she push him away? Did she, unknowingly, send him right into Hawkmoth’s manipulating grip? Was she a bad partner, could she not be trusted?

Why did he leave her?

Why was she not enough?

Despite all the years they fought side by side, despite the teases and smiles, despite the playful banter and blushes, despite their love and commitment, despite all the promises and ‘I’ll always be there more you, Bugaboo’, he had left her.

It had been months, and Ladybug was still riddled with grief.

She had Alya as Rena Rouge and Nino as Carapace by her side, but it was never the same. They didn’t flow with her as well, they didn’t understand her silent looks, and didn’t fully trust in her plans— not like Chat had.

Everything reminded her of him.

The moon and the brisk midnight air from times he snuck into her room just to talk, just to have company. The smell of croissants and hot chocolate from times they shared it over her balcony railing and late night patrols. Puns made her cry and she felt guilty every time she saw a cat.

She missed him so much that she often felt like she’ll just split open with all the grief and anguish inside of her.

Paris missed him, too. The shops and stands that had at one point had Chat’s themed items alongside Ladybug’s now only had hers. It looked weird— there was no Ladybug without her kitty. The citizens mourn at the sight of him.

The statue constructed of the two was almost taken down until the heroine herself did an interview for the first time in four months, saying that what he was doing now didn’t erase all his past good deeds.

Some people didn’t agree with that.

Ladybug tried not to listen to them.

Chat Noir was a good person— she knew he was.

He had done so much for her, he risked his life countless times to save her, he helps people whenever he can… or, at least, he used to.

Being the guardian was harder than Marinette thought it would be. It made her think about where she went, how quickly she could get home, how to explain her absences, how to do everything possible not to get caught more than she ever used to.

Alya helped, so did Nino. They were protective and helped her cover her tracks.

They couldn’t, however, help the pain that erupted in Ladybug’s heart every time she had to fight with Chat or see him on the battlefield, side by side with an Akuma. Side by side with someone other than her.

She knew he wasn’t happy.

He looked riddled with guilt every time their eyes met.

It made her angry.

How dare he leave her. How dare that stupid tom cat leave her and feel bad about it. How dare he be such a good person. How dare he try to keep her safe when they’re enemies now. How dare he care.

How dare he.

Those thoughts are exactly what led Ladybug to not be focused in a fight with an Akuma who could make instant 20-foot holes go into the ground and also control metal, sliding said metal over any of the holes that ‘caught’ someone automatically. She was a dangerous villain to fight, especially with the ex-hero to help her, needing both Rena and Carapace to join to even it out.

Unfortunately, as the couple fought with ‘Silvermole’, Ladybug had to fight with Chat. It was more like she was running away from him and trying to come up with a plan at the same time. He had always been quicker than her but she was more agile.

She knew that if they did hand-to-hand combat she’d lose.

That mangy cat had always had better reflexes than her and could defend himself better. She was just quick-witted and good at out-maneuvering, While he typically focused on one or two things, she saw the whole picture.

Together, they were balanced and unstoppable.

Forced apart and onto different sides, it was unfair and unpredictable who would win.

Ladybug already called for her lucky-charm but was forced to drop it as Chat tried to use his cataclysm the item— getting her in the ribs when she tried to deflect. By the sheer terror in his eyes as he did so made her know it was by accident.

But that didn’t mean that the broken ribs hurt any less.

Ladybug stumbled back, watching her old partner’s horrified green eyes as her foot slipped. Shrieking, she grabbed the first thing that she could— which happened to be Chat’s tail— as she was dragged into one of those stupid holes.

So they fell together, his baton flying up and catching a foot or two from the top. Reflectively, she shot her yoyo out— just as the metal slid screeching over the top and covered them in darkness— and it wrapped around his baton, then around Chat, pinning him upside down, head about six feet from the ground.

But Ladybug hit the cold, almost damp dirt, knocking the breath out of her as a whimper bubbled up from the back of her throat. It felt like a thousand knives were digging into her ribs, cutting up her lungs and setting her nerves ablaze.

Rolling onto her side, she held her waist was a grimace, body shaking as she gasped for breath. Why did everything hurt so much?

Through the pain induced haze, she could barely remember what she was doing, what was going on. Then she heard someone calling her name.

“—ybug! Ladybug, open your eyes! P-Please, please, I’m so— I’m so s-sorry!”

Someone is hurt, she thought tiredly as that voice began to cry out more. Someone is hurt and they need my help.

Ladybug’s hand went to her side and she whimpered again.

...is that person me?

No, no. It wasn’t. It sounded like— it sounded like her kitty.

“Chat,” She whined, head rolling towards the voice. Why was he above her? “What’s—”

Then the last year flashed through her mind.

The initial betrayal, the first fight, the way she had to trust all over again, the way she had to cope with her loss. The new teammates, the old one that was no longer there anymore. A vision of a boy in white leather, eyes so blue that they almost drowned her.

A boy she was no longer allowed to love.

Her eyes flashed open with a gasp, her body trembling in every inch as she scrambled back until she hit a wall— moving away from him despite the pain.

Ladybug couldn’t see.

Everything was black.

She panicked, hands fumbling for her yoyo around her waist, breathing heavy as the traitor tears escaped her eyes when she couldn’t find it. Cats can see in the dark, so could Chat. He could take advantage of the situation, he could use it to take her miraculous and—

“I’m sorry,” Her ex-partner’s words made her head shoot up, blue eyes clashing with his glowing green ones. “I wouldn’t have— I didn’t mean… it wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

Ladybug stayed silent, her wide eyes only staring at him as they adjusted to the light.

She could see the outline of his body, a thin yet unbreakable string wrapped around him from his ankles to his shoulder, keeping him in place.

Right, she blinked.

She had used her yoyo to save him from the fall by mere instinct.

Wincing in pain, she used the wall to help her stand. She had walked with broken ribs before, she could do it again.

A loud crash from above them made everything shake and it made Ladybug fall to her knees, both hands going to her cataclysmed side with another gasp.

Then, simultaneously, Chat’s ring and her earrings beeped.

Four minutes.

They had four minutes until they changed back.

And they were trapped.

Together.

“No, no, no,” Ladybug whispered harshly, curling into herself as her fists clenched, eyes staring emptily at the ground. “We can’t—”

“I know.” Chat sounded just as panicked. “We can’t look.”

Despite everything that happened, the one thing that remained between them is the respect of keeping their identity a secret. Perhaps both of them knew it would hurt too much to know who was under the mask. Perhaps they didn’t need double the grief and shame.

She was silent for a moment before she crawled until she was under the cat, not caring how undignified it made her. She reached up, careful not to touch him, she grabbed the end of her yoyo that was by his face.

Staring right into his eyes, hers narrowed, “Are we at a truce right now?”

“Yeah,” Chat’s voice was soft. “Even hurt you could— you can definitely take me down. We’re trapped, almost out of time, and there’s not enough space to even fight.”

“Thank God,” She tugged on her yoyo, controlling it so the stupid cat dropped right on his head. She didn’t have enough happiness inside to even laugh at how silly he looked rubbing his head as he sat on the ground next to her.

Looking up at his baton, Ladybug yanked on her yoyo and it made her shoot through the cramped, dark hole until her hands grabbed it, holding her in place. Sucking in a breath as her side screamed in pain, she rested on the weapon and put both hands on the metal above her, pushing desperately.

For a whole minute, she searched for a way out up top but it was sealed pretty much the whole way. Then she sent a message to both Carapace and Rena Rouge, telling them the situation she was in.

She got a reply from Rena, letting the leader know that the vixen’s boyfriend was recharging as she scooped out the situation— she thought that the Akuma could be in the fossil-like bracelet around Silvermole’s wrist.

Sighing after being promised a shift release from her prison, Ladybug used her yoyo to lower herself back to the ground before wrapping it around her wrist.

“I would give your baton back but it's stuck pretty good and there’d be nothing else to keep me up there.” She murmured, sitting across from Chat as soon as she lowered herself back down. The space was only about four feet across either direction so they were a tight fit, bodies almost touching if it weren’t for the way she painfully curled as tight as she could.

“It’s fine, it wouldn’t be much use anyway.” His green eyes watched her— seeming so close yet so far away. “How’s your ribs?”

His concerned tone threw her for a loop.

It was almost like before, when he was leaning against her after a hard fight, when they would hold each other at patrols and ask if the other was okay.

It’s been months but she still catches herself getting ready to go meet him on the Eiffel tower at night sometimes.

It’s been months but she still cares so much about what happens to him.

It’s been months but he’s still the same kind boy.

It’s been months and it’s still not fair.

“Breathing hurts,” Ladybug admitted, looking away as she rests her chin on her knee. “But it’s manageable.”

Chat paused, “What are we going to do when we detransform?”

“Well, I was kinda caught in the middle of changing so, unfortunately, I’m only in my sleeping shorts and sports bra— which I can almost guarantee you won't recognize. Lucky me.” Ladybug gave a deep frown, thinking about her being so exposed. “But I did grab my purse. I have masks in there we can use, thankfully. I also have cookies for Tikki.”

“Tikki?” He questioned. “And why were you changing, it was like, three in the afternoon when this started.”

“She’s my Kwami and don’t judge me,” She hugged her legs tighter to her chest as another beep sounded out. Two minutes. “I was about to get into my after school pajamas. Rena got them for me, they’re fox-themed.”

Chat gave a soft chuckle, “Of course she did. Does Pacey have a set one too?”

How can he do that? How can he just sit there and not realize that talking like this— like they were still friends, like she mattered, like he cared— hurt?

It hurt as bad as her ribs because she knew, deep down past all the pain and anger, that she missed him. That he still wanted her, that she still wanted him. That she did matter, otherwise he would’ve taken her earrings right now when she’s injured. That he did care, that he always cared.

That he, for whatever reason, just thought that Hawkmoth was more important than her.

“Yeah, and she has a turtle pair of her own.” Ladybug stops frowning but doesn’t smile, a neutral look overtaking her face as she fiddles with her yoyo, trying not to let her hurt show. “They’re really popular now, ever since Nadja got that interview where they kissed in front of everyone.”

“I saw that,” He admits. “I was happy that everyone was supportive of them.”

“Me too, even if a jealous fanboy tried to snatch her away,” Ladybug giggled softly at the memory of a tall red-head literally picked up Rena and tried to run with her and away from Carapace, the movement sent pain up her side but she was used to it and ignored it the best to her ability.

She stopped laughing when Chat just stared at her with wide eyes and dunked her head.

For a moment, a single pitiful moment, she forgot who they were and where their loyalties lie.

“Sorry,” She said, the last beep sounding out. “Do you have a hood or something that you’ll be able to cover your head with until I can get the masks out?”

“No,” He shakes his head with a sad droop to his ears.

“I’ll just turn around. My hair will be down.”

With that and as her earrings started beeping frantically, she shifted so her back was to Chat, face almost pressed against the wall as she sat crisscrossed. Light washed over both of them as they detransformed.

Marinette felt his body heat that their suits didn’t allow to pass through warm her back. He was sitting that close.

Sucking in a breath, she caught an exhausted Tikki, who gave her a sad smile.

She knew that the little Kwami always felt bad when her magic didn’t protect her but Marinette herself was simply grateful for everything her tiny goddess bestie did.

“I’m sorry I exhausted you so much, Kiki.”

“It’s okay, babybug,” The Kwami tiredly floated up to her holder’s cheek and nuzzled into it. “Will you be okay?”

“Mhm,” Marinette nodded, pulling her hair to the side as she reached for her purse, pulling out a cookie and giving it to Tikki. “Will you?”

“Yeah—”

“Sugarcube!” A black bolt crashed into her Kwami and it made her shriek, falling back with a wince as Tikki startled, too. “I missed you.”

“Plagg,” Marinette said, poking the black cat in the stomach but he didn’t let go of where he was cuddling and purring against a happy-looking looking Tikki. She missed him too. It wasn’t fair they had to be torn apart because of their holders. “I’m sorry, for everything.”

I’m sorry I couldn’t save you and Chat, she wanted to say.

I’m sorry you’re being forced to do something bad.

I’m sorry you’re getting hurt and exhausted every night.

I’m so sorry.

“It’s okay, kitten.” Plagg sighed, looking up at her with sad, green eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

Marinette at him, scratching below his chin as she nodded a ‘thank you’.

“Eat this with me, Stinky socks.” Tikki held out her cookie.

“Give me a ready to, Sugarcube!” He bickered. “You know I love it when we fight.”

The red and black Kwami rolled her eyes, split her cookie in two, and floated up towards where Chat’s baton used to be with her loyal kitty in tow. Marinette was glad that Plagg and Tikki’s relationship hadn’t been impaired due to their holders being on opposite sides now.

She just wished that her kitty had been loyal, too.

She opens her purse wider and unzipped the secret compartment she had sown in and pulled out two of the six masks she kept in there— for herself, Rena, Carapace, and the other three heroes, Ryuko, Honeybee, and Viperion when they’re called out for emergencies— and awkwardly bent to hand one to her ex-partner after putting her own on.

They were tight enough not to come off, completely black in color, and took up more than the usual amount of space so that they wouldn’t be recognized even without the concealing magic.

“Chat?” She questioned when he didn’t take it. “The mask?”

There was a pause, then he choked out, “Are those scars?”

Marinette startled, realizing he had been crying by his tone alone and clenched her fingers around the fabric as she tensed.

The scars.

She forgot about the scars.

They littered almost her entire body, forcing her to wear long sleeves and pants. Ever since Chat switched sides, any time she got hurt by him or got hurt from something he caused, the Miraculous cure would soothe the injury and heal it but leave a scar no matter the size.

And since he enabled the Akuma to hurt her, she had plenty of them.

She had thin almost silver ones from where she was scraped with glass, knocked with the baton, or thrown into a wall pretty much from head to toe. She had claw marks and deep gouges from him scratching her by accident— all the times he’s left her injured it hadn’t been on purpose— and oddly shaped red scars from different weapons and fire.

There were three distinct handprints over her body, one on her ribs in the newest time Chat used cataclysm on her, one on her hip and the other on her forearm, each being a time she blocked or was thrown in the way of his power.

The worst scar, however, were four angry white lines from when Hawkmoth had akumatized his new ally, turning him into Chat Blanc, and he had clawed Ladybug harshly on her back— it still aches sometimes when it was too cold out.

“Yeah, they’re scars,” Marinette whispered hoarsely. “Don’t you have some too?”

“No, I don’t… Why—” Chat Noir gave a shaky breath and took the mask from her, letting her know it was okay to turn around a moment later. The look of agony in his eyes in one she’ll never forget. “How… who hurt you?”

“What do you mean?” She grew confused. “Didn’t Plagg explain it to you?”

The boy with the green eyes flicked his gaze up to his Kwami and then shook his head, “He’s not really, uh, speaking to me right now.”

Probably because you sided with the terrorist instead of me.

“Oh…” She blinked. “Well, our magic wasn’t supposed to be against each other. Ever, for that matter. And since you… since you left the energies changed. Kind of like how we can’t call or track each other anymore using our tools. So any injuries you give me— accidental or not— they heal but they turn into scars.”

Chat stared at her blankly.

“Say again?”

“All the scars I have,” She rubs at her arms, looking away. “They’re from you.”

“No… No, I couldn’t have— I never meant to, I-I—”

“What did you expect, Chat?” She asked, voice soft but harsh, the year-long gash of abandonment and trauma and betrayal digging so deep into her bones that she’s scared that it would never leave.

And it was his fault.

She had every right to be mad.

“Not this.” He whispered coarsely.

Marinette turned away, hugging her knees to her chest tighter.

How did it come to this? She wanted to ask.

How did we go from two teenagers so in love that it hurt, two bodies laying side by side, magic clashing with magic and a downpour of promises and protection, hands holding hands and heat sharing heat on winter nights. Two heroes with laughter rolling through the night. Just us, falling in love with every breath— to this?

To falling out of it all, to harsh touches and snarls and fighting and opposite sides. To being alone, to crying, and crashing right out of your embrace. We are no longer you and I. There’s no us anymore.

How did it get like that?

Where did we go wrong?

Were we too busy trying to protect the world that we failed to realize we had to protect ourselves from each other?

“Do you regret it?” Chat suddenly asked, making Marinette’s eyes snap over to his sad ones. His fault, her mind repeated. It’s his fault he feels this way.

It’s the only thing she could tell herself that wouldn’t make sympathy crawl up her throat to try and choke her.

“Regret what?” She asks. Letting you fall into the hands of some terrorist?

“Meeting me, being… what we were?”

It was Marinette’s turn to be startled by a question and all she could do was stare.

Did she regret it?

Did he?

The time they had together was now bittersweet. The memories were cherished, each battle having something sweet to it, each conversation making their connection deeper. But Chat was gone from being that steady rock in her life, abandoning the title of her partner. Sometimes it felt more like a hole was opened up inside of her than any warmth from remembering his puns or the smiles he used to give out so freely.

“I don’t regret it,” Marinette sighs, tucking into herself more. “I don’t regret all that happened, I don’t regret getting to know you. We saved a lot of people and helped a lot more, too. I guess… I guess I just wish I could forget how it felt for you to love me. I wish that I could forget how to love you, too.”

“Babybug!” Tikki suddenly floated in front of her holder’s face and the girl shrieked, jumping back. “Oops, I didn’t mean to scare you. We’re done eating, I’m sorry it took so long.”

“It’s okay,” She gave a tired smile and giggled as the Kwami cuddled into her cheek. “I know you miss Plagg— it’s understandable that you took the opportunity to catch up. That’s why I didn’t call you down sooner, even if we have an Akuma’s butt to kick.”

“Thanks for that, kid,” Plagg floated in a circle around her, knocking into his counterpart unapologetically. “It’s nice to talk to someone.”

Marinette saw the loneliness in his eyes and felt like her heart was going to crumble.

Plagg had lived for eons, having endless Chat Noirs, seeing things that she couldn’t even fathom since the dawn of creation. The Kwami was usually sardonic, a little sarcastic and uncaring creature besides when it came to cheese or his counterpart.

Seeing him like this, forced to do evil, to go against her and Tikki, was heartbreaking.

Tears filled her eyes unwillingly and she cupped her mouth, nose stinging, eyes never looking away from Plagg as he gave her a sad smirk, cat ears drooping slightly, even as Tikki wraps her paws around him in a hug.

“Come on, bug,” Plagg’s voice is gentler than she’s ever heard it— which just makes her cry harder. “Don’t go soft on me.”

“I’m sorry,” She sniffles. “I didn’t mean to cry.”

“What a weird thing to apologize for, you big sap. I’ll never understand humans.” Plagg huffs sassily and cuddles up to her cheek, making the young heroine close her eyes. She could feel his magic— a dark devastation tickling her skin. The ruination felt like home. It felt like everything she missed in the past months. “You look tired. How you holding up?”

Marinette opens her eyes, briefly looking back at a despondent Chat before cutting her gaze back to the Kwamis cuddled against her, “Fine. I’m fine. I— I can h-handle it. I’ve… I’ve been alone before, it’s okay.”

“I remember the first time I met you, kid.” Plagg pats her cheek. “I knew you’d do great things back then and I know you’ll continue to do them now. Just like Sugercube, though she’s a lot stricter to me than you. The kill joy.”

“Thanks, Plagg.” She gave a depressed giggle and wiped the tears away, aware that she just cried in front of Chat Noir— who is now her enemy.

You can’t be vulnerable around him anymore, LB. Alya had told her one day after a particularly draining fight with the ex-hero. He’ll just use that against you.

“Yeah, thanks Stinkysocks,” Tikki crossed her arms, faking offense at what the other Kwami called her.

“Don’t be sour,” Her counterpart grinned wildly. “You know I care more about you than cheese.”

“What a compliment,” She gave a light giggle, antennas raising slightly.

A loud boom makes the hole that all four of them were trapped into— but not really, seeing as two were minor gods and coud phase through anything— and caused the humans to flinch.

“Back to work,” Marinette sighed, whimpering in pain as she stood— for a second or two her emotional grief made her forget her ribs were broken. “I don’t know when we’ll see you again, Plagg, but I hope it’s under better circumstances.”

“Me too, kitten. Me too.”

She was silent as the two Kwamis held each other, sad expressions on their faces. She was sure that even in hundreds of years when all of her and her friends are mere memories of past holders that the two of them will look back and think about this moment.

Surely they’ve had a situation like this happen before, right?

When the Black Cat and the Ladybug Miraculous are torn apart and working against one another? She’d have to ask later.

“Bye, stinkysocks.” Tikki rubbed her little paw under her counterpart’s ear, earning a purr. “See you.”

“Later, Sugarcube.” Plagg squished her cheeks and got a giggle for the ridiculous gesture. “Make sure your babybug is careful, alright? She doesn’t need any more scars.”

The miniature goddess nodded and turned to her holder with determined eyes and a nod, letting her know that it was okay to transform— that their goodbyes aren't forever, too.

“Spots on,” The red hue enveloped Marinette and she was left in her suit, a new surge of strength going through her and adrenaline that eased the pain going through her ribs. That Black Cat was right, she thought as she raised a ginger hand to her side. I don’t need any more scars.

Without wasting time, Ladybug takes out her yoyo and messages her teammates— both of them charged and ready to get their leader back, just as ready as she was to end the fight and go to bed.

“Rena is going to distract the Akuma and Carapace is going to try and break the metal.” She told Chat, who had also transformed and was back to his usual leather-clothed self. There seemed to be a new weight added to his eyes when she looked at him, a new burden. “It even smells like magic, though, so I don’t know if he’ll be able to. His Shell-ter would work but I need him… Hm, maybe I could use my lucky charm?”

She taps her chin, thinking about the possibilities.

If she used the charm she’d only have five minutes after getting out. Five minutes to take on the Akuma—and Chat— and restore everything to how it used to be. That’s not enough. Rena thinks she knows where the Akuma is located but what if she’s wrong and they waste precious time?

What if the object isn’t even on the villain, what if Chat hid it somewhere like he’s done before or what if—

“I can cataclysm the metal, if you want.”

The offer hangs limply in the air, dragging her thought process down the drain as Ladybug stares at the boy who used to be her partner.

“You want to… help? Why?”

God, he was doing something nice. Why did she have to sound so spectacle and confused? He wasn’t evil because he was pursuing something wrong.

Chat winced, rubbing the back of his head, “I feel… you— I don’t like hurting you but I have done that a lot in the past months. I don’t like that you’re scarred because of me. I don’t like that you have broken ribs because of me and I don’t like that you just cried because of me. I left you, I know that. I left you without a reason and there’s no sorry I can make to have you understand how bad I feel because of that. Just… can you just let me do thi?”

“It’s not a trick?”

He shakes his head.

“Okay but I don’t— I don’t trust you.” She looks away as his ears drop even further. “I’ll be up there with you, and go out at the same time. I don’t want to get trapped again.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I don’t know what you would or wouldn’t do, Chat.” She deadpans, trying to reel in all her emotions that just want to spill out. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me but—” Taking in a deep breath, she looks up instead of at him. “Nevermind. Please break the metal, I want to get out of here.”

“And away from me,” Chat murmurs under his breath, sounding so broken that it cracked something inside of her.

“Yes! To get away from you, Chaton! Is that what you want to hear?” Ladybug yells, turning so fast to face him and glare into those stupidly familiar eyes as her own watered. “I can tell you’re hurt and I can tell you miss me but don’t you dare act bitter about that, you don’t have the right! You left. You betrayed me with no explanation at all. You ruined me for anyone else who tries to love me because all I can think about is you. Everything I see reminds me of you, everything! Do you know how hard that is? How much I miss you because everything single thing around me is telling me that this is wrong! That I shouldn’t be fighting you! So I’m sorry, Chat, I’m so sorry that it’s hard to look at you. I’m sorry I’m still in love with you. I’m sorry!”

By the end of her rant, her chest was heaving and her face was burning red, her whole body trembling.

Chat Noir’s ears were drawn back, tail whipping slightly around his ankles— if she could see better she would’ve known that he started to cry.

“So please,” She presses her palms into her eyes, taking a shaky breath. “Please just get us out of here. I don’t know how much longer I can do this for.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” Chat whispered. “Hawkmoth, he— he knows who I am. He promised that… he promised that if I could get your Miraculous before the end of the year, he would leave you alone, that he wouldn’t hurt my friends. Wouldn’t— kill them. Without the miraculous, so you couldn’t bring them back. I don’t want to fight you, I never did! I just don’t want everyone and everything I love to be destroyed!”

“What?” Ladybug’s jaw dropped “How— when—”

“He’s my father.” She could see the tears running down his cheeks now, the way his body shook with the force of silent sobs. “Hawkmoth is my father. I didn’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do. How can I go against him? He’ll hurt them.”

She was crying for a whole new reason now.

Her poor kitty...

“We’ll figure it out.” Ladybug told him, determination to save her Chaton filling her veins as hot as the rage burning through him at the thought of his father— of the man who terrorizes all of Paris.

“You’re going to help me?” His wide eyes made all the anger she had inside of him for the last months melt away. “After everything I did?”

“Yes. You should’ve found a way to tell me all of this, you stupid tomcat.” She scowled. “But there’s no way I’m going to let that bastard manipulate and blackmail you like this anymore. Who are you?”

“I didn’t have the choice,” Chat’s voice broke. “He’ll know if I told you willingly, I can’t lie to him. He knows when I do it.”

“Willingly?” Ladybug blinked. “I can get around that.”

Without giving her ex-partner any time to think about that statement, the heroine wrapped her yoyo around him and slammed him to the wall, his knees slipping out from under him and she climbed on top of him.

This is the most physical contact they had in months but she didn’t let that distract her as she pinned his legs down and trapped his left hand under his arm as she reached to remove the ring from his right.

Panicking, and probably unsure of everything at the moment, Chat shouts, “Cataclysm!”

“Chaton!” Ladybug shrieks, her hand moving away from the destructive power as she glared at him. “You really had to do that?”

“You t-tackled me!”

“You’re getting blackmailed by a butterfly terrorist!”

“I can’t even move!”

Ladybug just stares at him a moment before looking at the black, bubbly magic swirling around his fingers. Glancing around, she looks at anything that she could press into his palm— as she knew that they were above the sewers and absolutely didn’t need to try and swim in her condition— without accidentally disintegrating or breaking everything in her hand.

She needed her hands to guide herself around with her yoyo, needed them for combat. Her hands had so many nerves in them, getting them injured to that extent would be far too distracting.

But she already had broken ribs.

She could live with more.

“Sorry about this, kitty.”

That was the only warning Ladybug gave before slamming his wrist into the ground, flipping her hand underneath his power-induced one and shoved it up— directing it right to her side with a silent apology to Tikki as she felt the burning chill of destruction pass through her suit and ignite her side in pain.

“Milady!” Chat’s shout of horror and astonishment came too late as he yanked his hand away, using it to hold her steady as she slumped against him in anguish. “Why would you do that, are you crazy?!”

“No right—” She wheezed out, closing her eyes as she tried to focus on anything other than the fact that breathing hurt and was rather difficult at the moment. “—to complain.”

He wasn’t, afterall, the one with broken ribs. Though now both of them were the cause, he just helped a bit each time and if he wasn’t so scared, or stubborn, she wouldn’t have had to do that.

After a couple moments of silence where she struggled to regain composer, the young heroine propped herself up and regained her position over Chat Noir, trapping him all over again.

“If you do this,” His green eyes were watery as he stared at her, looking more intense than she could remember seeing, not even trying to fight the lithe fingers that have closed around his Miraculous. “There’s no going back.”

Ladybug paused and looked away, “I know.”

And then she pulled the ring off.


	4. A Tight Fit. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next part of the previous chapter! Everyone is going to kick Hawkmoth's ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!! Next couple ones are going to only have one chapter :)))

Adrien Agreste sat still across from his lady, heart pounding in his chest as she just.. stared at him, Plagg above her head remaining wisely silent as his silver-turned-blue ring rested on her index finger.

She knew who he was.

Ladybug knew his identity, knew who the boy was that left her behind for his father, knew that he wasn’t just some model she probably never thought she’d know like she did, knew he was Adrien Agreste, son of famous designer and Hawkmoth.

_ Son of Hawkmoth. _

That’s what he was— that’s all she saw him as now, wasn’t it?

He was a traitor, a liar. He deserved every bad opinion, every nasty comment, every sneer thrown his way. He deserved it, he deserved all of Paris to hate him.

But  _ her _ ? God, how could he live with knowing she hated him?

Maybe it would be easier, in a way, knowing that she no longer cared. Knowing that she wouldn’t be sad anymore, just angry. Knowing that every time he fought her, he wasn’t hurting her more than any physical accidents he made.

Knowing those scars of hers—  _ the ones he caused _ — would just be battle wounds instead of remains left behind from his betrayal.

But now she knew.

_ She knew who he was.  _ No going back. No magical fix. No pretending it didn’t happen.

“I, I know I don’t deserve it,” Adrien lowers his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. “But can you please say something.”

Ladybug blinked three times, shook her head, and then spoke, “You’re Adrien Agreste.”

“Y-yeah,” He whispered.

“Oh, kitten,” Plagg suddenly laughed, green eyes looking right at the young heroine. “You have a thing for blondes, huh?”

_ What? _

“Oh my god,” She pinched the bridge of her nose, blue eyes squeezing closed. “Plagg, be quiet. I can barely think right now and I really don’t need you making my anxiety worse.”

“Got any cheese?”

“Banned,” Ladybug mutters. “You’re banned from camembert for a day.”

“What!” The kwami yelps, eyes going wide. “You can’t—”

“Two days.”

This time Plagg keeps his mouth shut and moves to sulk on her shoulder, ears drooping but an amused smirk still present on his lips.

“Okay,” Ladybug looked at Adrien but her eyes quickly flitted away. He swallowed heavily. Was it that painful to look at him? Did she know him outside of the mask? Were they friends— well, friends before he sided with his father? “This is what you’re going to do, okay? You’re going to go to the bakery by Francois Dupont and tell the owners you were supposed to meet with their daughter Marinette but got separated by the Akuma attack. Ask to wait in her room, they’ll let you. Don’t touch anything, don’t snoop, and just sit at the chaise longue. Carapace is trying to get us out right now, as I’m not going to give your ring back, so once he does I’m going to drop you somewhere safe and then meet you there, alright?”

“Wha— Marinette? Why Marinette’s house?”

“She’s trustworthy,” Ladybug said, looking up as a scraping noise is heard above them. “Are you going to do as I tell you to, Chat?”

“Yes,” He lowered his head further, feeling shame curl into him even more. Marinette was trustworthy, so that meant Ladybug was planning on telling her who he was Chat Noir. That meant he’d another best friends because of his horrible, traitorous actions. “You… do you promise that my friend, that they’ll be safe?”

“All of them will,” She nodded. “I promise.”

And, unlike him, Ladybug was someone who always kept her word.

Suddenly a loud shriek filled their ears before light cascaded down to them, a green hue to it. Both of the heartbroken teens squinted up, their eyes taking a moment to adjust as a voice called down to them, “You okay, LB? Is… is Chat there?”

“I’ll explain the extent of my injuries and how my abilities are a little crippled once I meet up with you and Rena.” Ladybug said, seeming to strain herself while doing so. Adrien kept quiet, eyes stinging at the sight of Carapace— one of the temporary heroes that he had clicked with whenever they fought together. A friend he left behind. “I have Chat’s ring, I took it from him. I’ll see you at the spot but right now, I’m going to put him somewhere safe.”

“Um—”

“I’ll explain it all. Just trust me okay?”

He was surprised when the turtle-themed hero hesitated before an ensured ‘okay’ rang through the air before the green hue vanished and he leaped away to probably go help his partner, Rena Rouge, with the Akuma.

Did they not trust Ladybug and her plans?

Why not?

Even when they first met, Adrien as Chat Noir, he knew to let his lady take the lead and direct the situation towards the best possible outcome— which worked time and time again.

But he did notice how, out on the field as he fought all three of them, that his former partner seemed to be more of a co-leader with her teammates than anything else. He also saw as that backfired and what he could tell as Rena’s or Pacey’s plan got one of them injured or unable to help anymore.

“Come on,” Ladybug huffed out, blue eyes pained as she leaned against the wall. “I’m going to get us out of here.”

To get away from me.

Adrien ignored the thought, no matter how true it was, and stood up. He hadn’t noticed how he towered over Ladybug before, his body almost twice the size of hers until he saw the almost subconscious flinch that overtook her as he stopped right next to her.

Without fail despite her broken ribs— which guilt slammed into his stomach for causing— she gracefully pulled him to her and used her yoyo to connect to anything outside, tugging on it when it did.

Pretty soon the young heroine swung them into the fresh afternoon air polluted with the Akuma’s destruction and managed to sneak around to place him into an abandoned street. He didn’t know where she placed the ring or Plagg but didn’t ask— seeing the hesitant way her eyes flicked from him to the villain.

Did she not want to leave him?

Or was it that she didn’t trust him to not find his way back to his father?

_ Hawkmoth’s son,  _ his brain taunted _. That’s all you’ll ever be. _

“Go to the bakery and do what I said,” She ordered again, blue eyes digging into him and he nodded automatically at her strict tone. “Please, Adrien, don’t make me regret this.”

With that, Ladybug flung herself back into the fight, the vixen and the turtle heroes by her side— becoming red, orange, and green blurs as they dodged attacks and came up with a plan.

An ache filled Adrien’s chest as he watched, forcing himself to look away.

He wanted to be over there. He wanted to fight next to his lady, next to his friends. He wanted to forget who he was the son of, he wanted to forget his mother’s pale body is a glass coffin and he wanted to forget the wicked gleam in his father’s eyes and the threats that seemed to stick into his mouth like caramel, he wanted to forget the fields of butterflies and what lays underneath his home, he wants to forget the months he didn’t hear Plagg speak and the disappointed depression lingering in that green eyes and his drooping ears.

He wanted to forget the way Ladybug had looked at him when she found out what happened, how he left her and who he left her for. He wanted to forget the dead look in her eyes and the sobs that escaped her face that held so much pain he was surprised that she didn’t just break in two.

He wanted to forget the first interview he saw the young heroine do in months and the way she closed in on herself after he was mentioned.

_ What had she said earlier?  _ Adrien asked himself as he absently crossed the street. _ That she wants to forget how he loved her? _

He wanted that too but, most days, it’s the only thing that kept him sane.

He wanted to not know how many freckles there was on her face and the way she giggled after getting a kiss. He didn’t want to know how her hips felt in his hands and the weight of her compassion for life as it was shown in her every waking moment. He didn’t want to know how heartbreakingly strong she was, how kind.

But he did.

And he loved her more with every breath because of that.

The ‘ _ ding! _ ’ of the bell ringing as he opened Tom and Sabine’s bakery door startled him. He didn’t realize how far he got, didn’t realize he was already at his destination.

Then the warm air and the scent of chocolate hit him.

That’s what Marinette— and now that he thought about it, Ladybug too— smelled like. It made him feel both safe and uneasy. Safe because neither of them would hurt him or use what they know against him but uneasy because he, unwillingly or not, hurt both.

“Ah, son!” The cheery yet worried voice of Tom Dupain made him look up. How didn’t he realize that the bakery was closed because of the Akuma attack? “You’re Marinette’s friend, right?”

Son.

The word sent a dark feeling down his spine.

Forcing a smile, he nodded, “Adrien, sir.”

“Right, you’ve gone to school with my daughter since Dupont.” The rather imposing man nodded. “What are you doing here? Mari’s not here not now.”

“Urm, w-we were going to meet up, actually.” Adrien lied. “But got separated due to the Akuma and she texted me that she’s safe and to just come here. Is it okay if I wait in her room?”

“Of course, of course!” Tom gestured to the door leading to the apartments. “You know the way, yes? And please tell my wife that Marinette is safe, she was rather worried.”

“I will,” The smile strained and he hurried past, almost wanting to curl up and just weep with how comforting both her parents were and how welcomed they made him feel.

Pretty soon he was just sitting on her chaise longue, doing as Ladybug said, and wondering if Marinette, wherever she may be, was actually safe.

***

“Adrien,” Something warm yet sharp touched his cheek and the blonde groaned, turning away from whatever it was bothering him. “Adrien, wake up.”

Why couldn’t they just let him sleep?

“I’m going to hit you with a pillow.” The soft voice warned him— only seconds later did Adrien realize that the voice belonged to a person and that he definitely wasn’t in his bed and that the woman speaking to him was absolutely not Nathalie.

Then a smooth but heavy object whamed into his head, jerking his body up in retaliation as his ear was painfully squished against whatever was underneath him.

“Oomph!” Apparently whatever he was laying on wasn’t meant for someone of his size and the blonde ended up rolling off and landed right in front of someone’s red covered feet. His green eyes widened and he scrambled into a sitting position. “Ladybug!”

“I didn’t know what I expected to find,” She sighed out. “But it wasn’t for you to have fallen asleep in my room.”

“Sorry,” He rubbed the back of his neck, watching as the young heroine went over to something on the desk and fiddled with it.  _ His ring. _

With his own sigh, he pulled himself back onto the chaise longue before realization kicked him and kicked him  _ hard _ , making his mouth drop.

Did… did she say  _ her  _ room?

“Ladybug,” Adrien called out, focusing on her height, her eyes, her everything. They were the same. Everything about her was the same. How can’t he ever noticed it? “Are— are you Marinette?”

Ladybug looked him dead in the eye and then looked away, her detransformation light coating her for a second, the suit disappearing and a girl in a sport’s bra and shorts was left, two Kwamis on either shoulder before they flitted off somewhere, probably leaving the two to talk.

“I am,” Ladybug— Marinette, because that’s who she was— said, as she pulled off the hand crafted mask she had been wearing in the hole earlier. “But that doesn’t really matter right now.”

Doesn’t really matter?

He was just realizing how much he had hurt his best friend, once as Adrien and again as Chat Noir, and it didn’t matter?

He could see the scars clearly over her body, all of them caused by him and all of them permanently etched into her body and  _ it didn’t matter _ ?

“How can you say that?” Adrien bursts. “Of course it matters!”

“Because I’m just me, Adrien!” She shouts back, twisting on her heel to glare at him. “There are more important things going on at the moment than you figuring out I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, baker’s daughter and class klutz one moment and Ladybug the next, okay? Your identity, for instance, because we need to take Hawkmoth down by tomorrow night otherwise you and others will be in more danger than usual. The fact that I know who Gabriel Agreste is, and the fact that I need to come up with a plan. This is bigger than me and this is bigger than you. Get over it.”

With that and the light of detransformation washing over both of them, Marinette was left standing there with her scars on show, authority and power in every aspect of her being, and making Adrien feel braver by the sheer amount of sense she knocked into him.

“I’m sorry,” Green eyes lowered. “You’re right.”

She remained silent and he daringly looked back up as she stared at him for a second or two before turning away, feeding both Tikki and Plagg before pulling her phone out of her purse and typing something.

Adrien didn’t ask what she was doing or what was going on, he just observed the young heroine and her room.

She wouldn’t get angry by him just looking, right?

It’s been a long time since he has been in Marinette’s bedroom, and there were some changes to the colors and decoration — he recognized a couple spots where both his alter-egos photos used to be and felt shame slam into his stomach like a sickening wave— but overall it wasn’t too different.

She was still the same girl.

The same friend, the same trustworthy hero with the same compassion and forgiveness and understanding. The same selflessness. The same courage and strength he’d never possess. The same freckles and eyes and lips.

But there was something… off.

Something new, something bad.

Sadness clung to her like a wet blanket. He could see it in her eyes, her tense shoulders and etched into her with every scar— scars made by  _ him _ . He saw it in the way her body sagged as it was about to just drop, the heaviness of her gaze and the almost wary, flinching way she shifted on her feet.

One wrong word, one wrong move, one wrong tug and she seemed ready to fall apart.

_ You did this, _ his mind sneered and it was right.  _ You did this to her. You left her. You hurt you. She never deserved this. She never deserved to be tortured by you. You said you loved her but you did this. What use is all that love now when all it did was cause pain? _

But, even after it all, she didn’t regret it. Regret him.

How? Adrien wanted to ask. How can someone be that kind?

Was it even kindness— or did she just give up on happiness and learn to accept the inevitable pain of merely existing?

“Adrien?” Marinette’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts and he blinked a couple times before registering her blue eyes looking at him with a cautious concern that caused his heart to ache. “You’re crying.”

“I, I am?” He reached up and touched his cheek, feeling the cold wetness to his skin and the sting in his nose. His eyesight was blurry and his chest seemed almost concave in his chest.  _ Why… why was he feeling like this?  _ “S-sorry.”

“You’re allowed to feel bad or upset or hurt and express that, Chat,” She softly reminded him, looking away. “Crying isn’t a bad thing, it just means you’re feeling something strong enough that it needs to come out in one form or another.”

“Okay,” Adrien nodded, squeezing the word out past a tight throat.

“Well,” Marinette sighed after a few tense moments where she passed him a tissue box and let the ex-hero compose himself. “The rest of my team is on their way over to Honeybee’s place, Ryuko is already there and Carapace doesn’t live too far away but we’ll probably beat Viperion and Rena there, since she has to grab him before coming over.”

“I… you’re really trusting me to know their identities?”

“Honeybee is,” Marinette looked him right in the eyes. “And she’s really not happy about knowing Chat is, well, you, so good luck. It will be the other’s decision to tell you or not but they’ll all know who you are.”

Adrien swallowed and then nodded.

That seemed… that seemed  _ fair _ .

He hurt all of them, worked against them. Ladybug, Carapace, and Rena Rouge more than the other three— as they were only temporary heroes but they were heroes nonetheless— but they were his former friends.

They trusted him and he threw that all away.

Besides, it’s not like he had a choice.

This was Ladybug; he couldn’t go against her if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He just wanted it all to be over.

Without saying much, Marinette put extra cookies in her purse, pocketed what she needed, had Adrien go up to the balcony, retrieved whatever she had to keep hidden from him, and then transformed and walked up to where he was resting against the railing.

He saw the now pinkish shine of his ring—  _ not anymore _ , he reminded himself— against the red of her finger but couldn’t see Plagg, he probably was hiding or safe somewhere against the heroine, active but not transformed.

She tilted her head in question, silently asking if he was ready, and Adrien nodded even though that was the farthest thing that he was.

Ladybug picked him up easily and began to swing from building to building, gracefully keeping herself stable and him safe as she stayed out of the public’s eye. Pretty soon he could start to tell where they were going— to Le Grand Paris.

Where Chloe lived.

Chloe.

Blonde. Blue eyes. Cocky attitude.

Honeybee.

Chloe is Honeybee.

And she knew that he was Chat Noir.

_ He was fucked. _

***

“Adrien Ancil Arthur Auguste Archenhaud Athanasius Agreste!” Chloe yelled at him harshly as soon as he was safely situated away from the balcony’s edge— his full name giving him more than enough time— and causing him to flinch. “How  _ fucking  _ dare you! Do you know how much we’ve all gone through because of you? Do you know? Hm? Do you understand how many times you’ve ruined my hair!”

“Chloe,” Ladybug sighed, letting her transformation fall and for Tikki and Plagg to zip over to where the blonde had a miniature booth with a round table made for her and her friends Kwamis. “Let him explain before you bombard him with hate. He had… there was a reason.”

“Reason?” She hissed. “What  _ reason  _ could justify him leaving us? Leaving you? He—”

“My father was going to kill you,” Adrien whispers, starting to feel his lungs shake and heart thudding heavily in his chest, voice desperate. “He told me that if... if I ever stepped out of line or helped anyone other than him— if I could get Ladybug’s miraculous by the end of the year that he wouldn’t kill you and Mari and Nino and anyone else I care about, that he wouldn’t find a find to destroy all of my friends.”

Chloe blinked.

Once, twice. Three times.

And then promptly bursted into tears.

The blonde wrapped her arms around her childhood friend and for a second Adrien stood there completely tense before embracing her back and crying as well. He could feel Ladybug’s — Marinette’s— eyes on them but didn’t care.

It has been so long since someone hugged him like this.

It’s been so long since someone hugged him in general and he missed it— the way someone’s arms wrapped around his tight enough that, if only for a moment, he could pretend that they wanted him. That he was worth something.

“I don’t forgive you, you idiot,” Chloe sniffled, pulling back and offering him a half-smile. “But I understand why you did it. I just wish… I wish you would’ve come to one of us, we would have helped you.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t think, Clo.” Adrien whispers out. “I was— I was so scared. I didn;t want anyone to be dead because of me or hurt and… and I knew that I wouldn’t beat Ladybug but it was enough for my father for me to just be on his side that he promised he wouldn’t do anything to anyone.”

“That… I’m sorry you went through that, Adrien.” She says. “I just have a question. If you’re supposed to be on his side, where does he think you are right now?”

He shrugs, “As long as I’m not transformed after the battle— which he could see on the tracker, I think— then he doesn’t care what I do or where I go as long as it’s safe enough not to get scars. He wouldn’t want anything to affect my modeling career.”

Chloe gives him a sympathetic look but also one of understanding.

She knows what it’s like for parents not to care, for them to never be there unless they absolutely needed to. For a parent to buy them things instead of love them as if material goods could make up for that.

She understands.

She just… well, she never had a supervillain/ butterfly terrorist as a father. In that way, not a lot of people can relate.

Or anyone, really.

“Mari!” The familiar voice of Rena Rouge jerked Adrien from his thoughts and he stepped into Chloe’s room opposed to the balcony as the heroine landed on the balcony with a disgruntled boy in her arms, his face covered by a black mask and his hair hidden underneath a Jadded Stone hoodie.

Based on how he moved and the built of his body, the boy could only be Viperion and he watched as he walked into the room and went straight to Mari, who handed him a green bracelet while the other heroes— Chloe, Ryuko (who he just noticed sitting silently on the bed), Rena Rouge— watched.

Calling on his transformance, Viperion is left in his usual suit, teal hair, and glowing eyes just as Carapace bounds onto the balcony, leaning over Rena Rouge as everyone turns to look at Adrien.

“So,” The Fox Miraculous holder snarled, ears going down slightly. “That mangy cat was  _ you _ ?”

“Rena,” Marinette sighed out.

“No, no,” Her eyes were practically flashing with anger. “He doesn’t get to hurt you for months and then just expect us to forgive him or get over shit! Adrien was supposed to be  _ our friend _ . He wasn’t— he wasn’t supposed to leave us like that, Mari!”

“He doesn’t expect you to forgive him,” She shot back, blue eyes narrowing in what Adrien could only describe as exasperation. “He doesn’t even expect you to help him but I do. His father is Hawkmoth, the man I’ve been fighting since thirteen and even if you guys came a bit later each of you know how… traumatic it is to be a hero. To literally have the wait of people’s lives on your shoulders. Chat is no different. He was forced to go against us by threats and blackmail. He never would have betrayed us all if he had a choice. No, it’s not okay what he did. No, he shouldn’t have just accepted it and not come to use or fought back. No, you don’t have to forgive him. But you have to do what’s right and put your feelings aside for one night— that’s all I’m asking— so this nightmare can be over.”

“Fine,” Rena huffed, crossing her arms with a slight glare but anyone could see her resolve to be angry had weakened. “Well, are we just going to stand here or are we going to go in and talk?”

Chloe rolled her eyes at the sass and waved them all into her bedroom. She sat on the bed with Ryuko and Viperion (Adrien knew the three of them were dating and was honestly scared of the two bluenette’s reaction to how he hurt their Queen). Carapace and Rena Rouge took the loveseat a little ways away as Marinette leaned against the wall and Adrien chose to sat by the door.

“So,” Carapace barely looked at Adrien for more than a second before he flinched and looked away. “Are… are we supposed to drop our transformations? Honeybee and Chat did.”

“It’s up to you,” Their leader shrugged, blue eyes swimming over everyone. “I know you don’t trust Adrien and I would never force you to do something that would make you feel unsafe or vulnerable. Your identities are your greatest assets. Chloe and I decided to show who we were because of personal or strategic reasons and Adrien wasn’t given an option otherwise.”

“Okay,” Viperion nodded, a slight hiss to his voice. “Do you trust him?”

Marinette paused and looked at him for a minute before sighing, “I believe that he won’t betray or go against us in the final fight—  _ if  _ I give him Plagg and the ring back. Chat never liked hurting us even out of the field and he’s never been cruel. I trust him enough to ask you all to trust me in the decisions I’m making.”

Viperion, Ryuko and Chloe nodded while the other couple made hurt or sour faces.

Adrien lowered his eyes.

After today, he has lost or changed the opinion of all the people that mattered— and this time he did it without the mask.

“I have a question as well,” Ryuko said, brown eyes deep enough that Adrien felt like he was getting pummeled by a bunch of rocks when her sharp gaze cut over to him. “You said if you give Plagg and the ring back. How are you deciding if Adrien is going to keep his Miraculous?”

“I’m not going to decide,” Marinette said. “We are.”

“Like,” Chloe waved her hand boredly. “A group vote?”

“Precisely,” She nodded. “My mind is made up already but this isn’t a dictatorship, it’s a group. When we’re fighting an Akuma, I direct you all because it’s my responsibility to be the leader and finish the fight. Here, with a situation like this, we need to come to a consensus and I’d like all the Kwamis to get a vote as well.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Rena nodded along and then let her transformation fall without warning, leaving behind a glaring Alya— which wasn’t that surprising, honestly. Carapace blinked, promoted into doing the same, and Nino was left with a hunched back as he avoided Adrien’s eyes.

His best friend.

Carapace was Nino.

Nino was his best friend.

He betrayed his best friend. He’s been fighting his best friend. He’s been…

_ Oh God. _

Adrien felt like he was going to puke and that feeling only got thicker in his throat as Kagami destransformed in a bath of light and Viperion followed with his own teal shine and put down, took off his mask and revealed Luka’s cringing face underneath.

These… these people were his friends.

_ All them them. _

There wasn’t a single unfamiliar face and it broke his heart.

He hurt them so much, and they’re still trusting him enough to show their identities? They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve to have to put up with all of his problems, with his psychotic father, with the burden of being a hero.

“He looks like he's going to hurl.” Luka comments— and just like that Adrien is stumbling on his feet as he runs to the bathroom and empties his stomach into the toilet.

***

Marintte watches with wide eyes as her former partner books it into an appropriate place to throw up before turning to Tikki with a grimace, “Please start voting and be serious about it. Plagg and you get more say than anyone else but mine and Ryuko’s— along with the other Kwamis— opinion way more than the other’s because we’re less likely to let our emotions get in the way.”

“I will, babybug,” The miniature goddess pats her holder’s cheeks before turning to the group and doing as she promised.

Marinette makes her way to the bathroom and sees Adrien flushing the toilet as he holds his stomach and is practically slumped against the floor with his back to the sink. She saw his almost pained expression and looked away before going over to the cabinet and grabbing out a small towel.

Wetting it, she hands it to him before fishing around for an extra toothbrush and finding it a couple seconds later. She fills one of the plastic cup-things that were in there with water and then hands him it along with the toothbrush and some toothpaste.

It’s silent as he brushes his teeth and rinses out his mouth until he smells fresh again.

She watched, trying to understand the anxiousness on his face— as she knew that it went beyond just the jitters of maybe not getting his Miraculous back.

Marinette’s face softens when she realizes what it is.

“They’ll forgive you,” The young heroine places a gentle hand onto his shoulder and he leans into her touch, green eyes closing slightly even though his lips tug down into a frown. “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now… that you hurt them more than what they could ever get over but you didn’t. They’re strong and they’re good people and they understand the mistakes you made in the face of fear and blackmail.”

“They…” Adrien swallowed heavily and when green clashed with blue, she wanted nothing more than to grab him and hold him until he no longer felt like each broken piece of his was going to cut someone else. “They hate me, Mari. I won’t blame them if they don’t want to give me Plagg back. He doesn’t even want to talk to me.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to you, Chat— er, Adrien,” She rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s that he doesn’t… he doesn’t know how to talk to you. The second you joined Hawkmoth he became a prisoner instead of a friend. What do you say to someone you still care about and love but who’s also imprisoned you? What even can you say? But that’s not the point. The point is that Plagg still cares about you, so do I and so do all of them.”

“You said that you wished you could forget how it feels to love me,” Adrien said. “Back when we were trapped. I bet they regret being my friend too.”

“Stop with feeling sorry for yourself,” Marinette said this but her voice remained just as gentle. “We have all been hurt. We all lost someone or people when you joined your father. They’re allowed to feel what they’re feeling and be sad or get angry. Just like you’re allowed to feel guilty and sorry for hurting them in the first place. So get off the floor, apologize and explain yourself and whether you get your ring back or not, what happens happens. Either way I’ll love you.”

His green eyes were watery and he looked up, “No matter what happens, I’ll love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's any ships you want to see that's a little rare or a ship with a prompt, just comment and I'l do my best to get around to writing it!!


	5. The Beauty of Purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka Couffaine always felt like purple was a dangerous color.  
> What was good about it, when all it did was hurt?  
> And why were they purple, then?  
> He was blue. Marinette was pink.  
> And she didn't want him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a cute Lukanette drabble for you guys!

Purple was her and him, it was them.

But purple was also the color of anger, of heartbreak.

It was the color his father screamed through the house until his voice went raw and it was the color his knuckle turned after punching the wall. Purple is what his mother cloaked herself in when he left, like her whole body turned bruised with grief. Purple is the color his sister wore until she turned it from mourning into bravery and learned how to love again despite the fear. Purple danced from his fingertips and stained his cheeks as sobs clung to his bedroom walls. Purple is what he has to protect himself from— his past from leaking out and his sensitive heart from twisting into colorless knots, his anger from striking, his sister meant to be held instead of frightened. Purple was sorrow, it was aching and cruel and merciless.

Purple was not meant to be happy, wasn’t meant to  _ them _ .

So why was it?

Because Marinette is so many shades of pink that it leaves Luka breathless, but she’s always a bubble-gum glow when she sees him.

That’s when she’s herself.

That’s when she’s happy.

And it’s because of  _ him _ .

Him who’s a blue— dark enough some days to drown his soul, dark and deep and enough of an ocean blue that he could sweep the world away in a tsunami and not even care. A cyan blue when calm, when he teases his sister, when he meditates to his guitar. But he’s a soft azure when he’s with her; indigo when she cries and a blazing navy when she’s hurt. Her laughter makes him go bright blue and her smile melts him into the color of the sky at midday.

She’s pink.

He’s blue.

And purple is still not a happy color, still not something she’d choose.

She wants yellow instead.

She’d be happy with yellow. With someone other than him.

And he wants her to be happy— so there’s no room for purple.

Besides, he thinks, purple just ruins things and she deserves to be safe.

“Lovely?” Marinette pokes his cheek, making the musician blink up at her at the sound of what the tiny bluenette has chosen to call him for months now. That and ‘sweetie’. “Are you okay?”

“Your freckles are darker than usual.” Is all Luka can say, eyes drifting over her slightly pink-tinged cheeks as the little freckles stand out.

_ Pink, pink, pink. _

Her blush is pink.

When he glances down, he sees the frown on her lips— they’re pink too— and feels the uncertain skip in the best of her song. It makes him sigh.

“Don’t worry about me, Melody.” Luka gently reaches up and tugs a loose strand of hair behind her ear, not wanting it to block this beautiful electric eyes. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Marinette tilts her head and it takes almost all his self restraint not to awe out loud at how adorable she is. “I’m here to talk if you’re not.”

“I’m sure.” He chuckles, ruffling her hair even though his heart aches.  _ Yellow _ . She likes yellow, not blue. “Want to hear a song I’ve been working on?”

“Of course.”His melody smiles softly— the same smile that makes his heart beg to never let it end— and motions for him to continue. “What’s it about?”

Luka smirks, “You’ll see.”

Marinette gives him a look that’s somewhere between ‘Why don’t you just tell me?’ and ‘What are you waiting for?’ and it makes his smirk broaden into a grin, lips tugging up at the sides as her nose crinkles.

_ Cute _ .

They’re sitting across from each other on Marinette’s balcony and the sunrise is orange and red and  _ pink—  _ and it makes Luka feel something he’s too scared to feel alone but doesn’t ask or pry. He sits there patiently and he plays his guitar for the girl he fell in love with.

If she was happy, being friends would be easier.

If she was happy, he wouldn’t mind yellow.

If she was happy… would it be worth it?

Now they’re laughing and talking and teasing and it makes his heart melt in his chest because she isn’t happy with him how he wants to be happy with her, but she’s still happy.

And it’s  _ enough _ .

It’s more than enough and it’s worth it a thousand times over.

Her eyes twinkle in Paris’ lights and the sun makes her hair glimmer as it flows around her shoulders and—  _ god  _ she’s so beautiful and she doesn’t even realize how much she affects him and  _ god _ , she’s smiling and her freckles are drowning under her blush and he’s drowning under his own love and he can’t handle it but  _ god _ , he would do anything for her.

And it isn’t fair and it never will be fair because he’s blue and she’s pink but she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t want anything but to become the soft color of a peach with yellow.

Peach would look good on her— a gentle color with no chance of going dark. Yellow is too bright, too easy to love for that. Too nice of a color to make peach anything less than what she would hope.

And purple is still a dangerous color.

Purple is still dark, it’s still unstable. He knows why she doesn’t want purple but he wants it. He wants the mulberry shape of bruise-kissed lips and magenta blushes and mauve-colored winks and he wants to love her so much that it’s  _ painful _ .

Purple is still  _ them _ .

But it’s him now, too.

She crawled so far into his heart that all his walls crashed down into a dusty cloud of pink, and that pink mixed until she was in his lungs and he was breathing her in with every breath. He doesn’t need oxygen— he just needs her.

He loves her.

He’ll always love her.

But now it’s midday and the sky is the color of his eyes whenever he looks at her and there’s nothing dark or hard about it. It’s a soft color and a soft feeling and it expands even when the sun— even when the thoughts of yellow— try to break through.

It’s midday and they’re still laughing.

They laugh until their sides hurt and Luka doesn’t even remember why but when he looks at the way Marinette’s head tilts back with a loud giggle he finds that he doesn’t care.

Midday doesn’t last forever, though, and neither does the feeling of being drunk on happiness. Purple comes crashing in with sharp edges and a wicked laugh and draped in gold garments and purple is the color of the mask they’re wearing and purple is the color of fear that seizes Luka’s heart when it tries to hurt her.

When it threatens to make them relive their most painful memories or when their lives changed forever.

When he thinks about his father; the purple yells bouncing around their home, the bruises, the injuries he had to hide, the hits meant for his sister but left orchid-colored marks against him instead.

When he knows that she’s been hurt a lot too.

When he knows that both of them have things they never want to experience again.

Akumas were common and they were always thrumming with energy and he knew that they weren’t in control of themselves— that Hawkmoth had his manipulative claws digging into their minds— but it doesn’t help the rage that contorts and twists in his veins because  _ how dare they try to hurt the girl he loves. _

So he fights for her and she fights for him but they’re just two teenagers and they weren’t supposed to be a team and what were they  _ supposed  _ to do when the world feels like it's falling down onto them?

Luka felt like he was drowning but that wasn’t what scared him.

What scared him was looking to his right and seeing that Marinette was drowning too. That his eyes were growing heavy and he couldn’t breathe and he felt so weak but he reached out for her anyway— he reached out and everything went numb when their fingertips touched.

It felt like he was flying, flashes and colors and smells jerking him from one place to the next and it could’ve been years since his feet had touched the ground by the time that Luka crashed into the cold, plasticy feeling of whatever was under him.

Coughing, he sat up in a blind frenzy, blinking repeatedly as his senses tried to grapple his surroundings— skin feeling too tight to fit his panic.

“Melody?” Luka pushed himself to stand, knees shaking but not as bad as his voice. “Melody, where are you? Marinette!” Seeing her groaning behind him, the musician only sees a wave of pink before he’s already crouched next to her and holding her face in his hands.

She’s cold and her face is scrunched up like she tasted a lemon.

But she’s breathing, she’s alive— and it makes relief puncture his lungs and for a heavy sigh to escape him.

“L-Luka?” Marinette’s eyes slowly blinked open, mouth parting in some form of a daze— as if she’s looking right through him. “What… the akuma! No, oh no. This is, this is bad! I can’t be trapped here, I have to get back! And, god, Luka. I need to get back to Luka.”

“Melody, it’s okay, I’m right here.” Luka shuffled closer, both of them sitting side to side now as his hands calmingly ran up and down her arms, confused as to why she wasn’t looking at him. “We’ll be okay. Ladybug and Chat Noir will fix everything and—”

“No, no.” She clutched at her head with a groan, not acknowledging his words, blue eyes filling with terror and guilt. “If I’m here then, then— Tikki?” Watching her suddenly whirl around and stand up gave Luka whiplash and he wondered how she didn’t even stagger after being teleported to… wherever they were. “Tikki, I really need you!”

_ Tikki? Who’s that? _ Luka blinked a couple times, hands itching by his sides to just drag her back to him and never let go.

He’s blue and she’s pink but purple would be okay if she’s safe. Purple would be okay, for just a moment, if he could hold her. If he could make sure nothing else— no one else— could hurt her. 

“Okay, okay, this is fine,” Marinette said to herself and Luka watched, unsure of what to do if she couldn’t see, hear, or feel him— seemingly anyway since she gave so indication that she knew he was there. “Chat Noir will fight that Akuma or find a way to break me out of here and everything will be fine. He knows who I am. He’ll figure it out.”

_ Chat Noir? Why would Chat Noir focus on getting her out then just winning the fight and cleansing the Akuma with Ladybug? _

Luka was a Couffaine, chaos ran in his blood and he was used to life throwing a curveball and painful things his way, used to going with the flow and preparing for the worst, used to figuring things out on his own.

But honestly? This was giving him a headache.

“Melody?” He stands up and tries again, only for a wave of purple to explode around them as the scenery flashes around them, their bodies now side as they’re forced to move through wherever this Akuma’s power is taking them.

They’re off to the side, his Melody not too far away and she clutches at her hands to her chest breathing heavy as she stares at what looks like a playground around them, and he can smell the wood chips underneath them and the wet soil, puddles here and there as drops of water drip from the trees.

He blinks again and recognizes it. 

The playground from the first school he went to, when he was five or six and still so scared of everything and anyone that he avoided people at all costs— blending in with the background and making no friends.

But this wasn’t from his memory.

It was from hers.

“Mari,” Luka looks down and wishes he could hold her, but she still can’t see him or feel him. They’re trapped together but they’re still so far apart. He sighs, looking around more and frowning. “Why would one of your worst memories be on a playground?”

As expected, she didn’t answer.

Then Luka sees her— a short little five-year-old with a shy smile and a pink overalls that are too big for her and a white shirt underneath, dark hair into pigtails and blue eyes nervously taking in all the other kids playing.

That’s Marinette.

Compared to him at that age, she definitely looked more put together. Still kind, still adorable in that innocent kid way where they don’t know how cruel the world is. In a way that he never got to experience— childhood ripped away by his father’s hands much too soon.

Kids he recognized as her now classmates and his sister’s girlfriend, but not his sister— she went to school a year later than everyone else— were playing what looked to be kickball.

The Akuma also said life-changing memories, so many things wouldn’t be bad? Maybe this is just when she made friends for the first time?

Luka hoped that’s all it was.

But then, as the rest of her memory played out, he realized that was a too-soon assumption.

She’s five when she learns what it’s like to be bullied for the first time and goes home with a running nose and bruises from when Chloe— god, he _hated_ that girl— pushed her into the concrete. She’s called Ugly Mari for the rest of the year and it breaks his heart as he realizes that this is what started her insecurity.

She’s seven when she’s told she’ll never be loved and Luka watches as she cries in her father’s arms as she asks what’s so wrong with her that no one wants to be friends. Mr. Dupain tells her that some people just don’t have the same gentleness and warmth inside of them that she has.

She’s nine when she makes friends with her classmates and everyone learns to love the kind-hearted but ten when her best friend at the time says she’s too much to handle. This is the year she learned to fold any pride she had into herself and hide it away next to her confidence.

Luka wants to scream at the world when he sees how scared she is of pushing people away because she’s a little too smart, a little too clumsy, a little too late, a little too much.

She’s twelve when Chloe beats her up in the locker room and she goes home telling her parents that she fell down some stairs. She’s twelve when she makes her first successful shirt and it gets ripped up. She’s twelve and she cries herself to sleep because she doesn’t feel like anyone will ever love her.

She’s seventeen now and she’s watching herself at twelve years old and Luka sees the tears in her eyes and he’s on the floor crying just watching her feel worthless and he can’t even hold her and tell her how she’s the most amazing person he met.

She’s thirteen when she becomes Ladybug— he learns that Tikki is her Kwami— and Luka’s breath gets taken away at how brave she is but then is given back as his heart breaks all over again when he sees that she’s so riddled with insecurities that she doesn’t think she will be good enough to protect Paris.

He watches her make a mistake and she is so terrified that she gives away the earrings to Alya. He watches as she takes them back and helps her best friend. He watches as a cop berates her for getting them into this mess. He watches as she saves the same girl who made her feel unlovable for the last thirteen years of her life. He watches as she’s confident for one of the first times and smirks as she takes down Stoneheart and all the butterflies.

He watches and he’s back to being the love-sick man he is as he sees his Melody, the one trapped here with him, watch herself without blinking.

Then she smiles and he feels so grateful that his heart aches because she’s letting herself be proud and she might not be healed from the trauma of being bullied so harshly for years but she’s  _ strong  _ and she’s getting through it.

It’s the next day she falls in love for the first time underneath a black umbrella and Luka sees the shy smile on her face and he scowls because pink and yellow don’t mix— even if it would make her happy. Pink and yellow is peach but she’s nervous and so scared of messing up and yellow can’t see it and he doesn’t even deserve her.

There’s a couple battles and other heroes and small conversations here and there but their brief flashes and distant sounds but Marinette smiles anyways and waves when she sees the people she loves.

Luka sees it all and he doesn’t know how he could ever stop loving this girl who’s compassionate and sweet and protects everyone without complaining and no one can even properly appreciate her for it because no one knows.

But he knows.

And he loves her all the more.

She’s fourteen when she meets him and he watches himself play for her and he smiles as his Melody looks at the scene with a familiar tenderness in her eyes that leaves him breathless. He watches over the course of the year as they grow closer through her eyes, as he gets akumatized and as he is granted with the Snake Miraculous for the first time.

Luka sees as, even though he wasn’t her first love, she fell in love with him.

She’s sixteen when she dies for the first time in a battle with an Akuma and Chat Noir is forced to take her earrings. She’s sixteen when she comes back from death with a smile and learns that her partner is Adrien Agreste. She’s sixteen when she found out her old crush is madly in love with her and she still chooses him— she chooses Luka— anyway.

She’s seventeen and she’s talking to Alya on the phone about how to tell him she wants him and it was this morning she did that, right before he came over, and then they’re sitting with bright smiles and he notices how she looks at him when he’s looking at something else— only briefly, as even the devil knows he’d be damned if he could just keep his eyes off of her for more than a couple minutes— and Luka is blown away with the knowledge.

She loves him.

Marinette loves him.

The feeling is so purple that it makes him ache with the need to kiss her. It’s the smell of her lavender shampoo and the color of an Iris and it’s warmth and gentle and a burning amethyst and it makes him cry all over again.

He’s blue and she’s pink and yellow isn’t even an option anymore but that doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want yellow. She doesn’t want to be peach. She just wants him— she wants him and he wants her even more.

Purple was still dangerous.

But it was so, so  _ beautiful _ .

He’d never give it up because of what purple was.

Purple was her and him, it was them.


	6. Intruder in the Batcave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Tim Drake gets a little too much coffee and a lot less sleep than needed and decides to snoop on his family by hacking into the security cameras and happens to see a tiny ladybug-themed hero arguing with his father? Well, he thinks he might be a little delusional from sleep deprivation but watches the whole thing anyway.  
> Who knew someone so tiny could be so feisty in front of Batman?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao, this is such a crackhead drabble. Enjoy!

Tim Drake was on a coffee high.

Usually this wouldn’t be an issue, he was a coffee addict and he had no shame in that fact even when it made him behave like a drunken— albeit genius— zombie. At seventeen and CEO of Wayne Enterprises he had a  _ lot  _ of work to get done, meaning long hours and even longer headaches.

So he was doing things to keep himself entertained past the freedom of no work that often coincided with being bored.

Such as hacking into the Manor’s cameras and snooping on his family.

Jason, unsurprisingly, was stuffing his face with an unimaginable amount of junk food in their living room while watching Dick and Cass spar— Stephanie laughing and throwing things at them from the side while Babs just trash-talked them with a rather sassy amount of sarcasm.

Damian was sharpening his favorite katana and the rest of his sharp ‘stabby stabs’ as Jay liked to call them— and was scowling that signature scowl as if he knew that he was being watched.

Tim smirked at the glare thrown towards the camera. That little gremlin definitely knew and couldn’t do a damn thing.

Unless, of course, he tried to stab him again.

Alfred was somewhere being, well, Alfred.

Tim, for all his intellect, stopped questioning how the butler and pseudo-grandfather seemed to know anything about everything and before that thing even happened— and seemed to teleport to places randomly, moving quicker than the teenager thought possible sometimes.

But that was just Alfred.

He was the scariest of them all, even though no one said it outloud.

Flipping through the cameras, it takes his brain a split second to back-track to what he saw— or who he saw talking to Bruce in the Batcave. Tim went back to it instantly, turning the volume of his computer up as he tried to process what was happening.

“—you can’t make decisions like this, regardless of what you believe.” His father said, only making his curiosity grow (so of course he did the reasonable thing and sent a live footage link to his sibling’s phones). “This is not your territory, this is not your city, and these are not your people to control.”

“Control?” The girl standing opposite of Bruce, probably no more than five-feet tall and looking no younger than fifteen, hissed with a thick French accent. She had deep blue hair and blue eyes from what he could tell, and she was wearing a red mask with black polka dots and a suit to match. “I don’t want to control anyone, I want to keep them safe! And frankly, Mr. Wayne, you’re nothing but dull if you think that my stance on this matter is unimportant. If you go against me on this, you won’t like what happens.”

Tim watched with wide eyes as this girl— this tiny, young girl who had what looked like a yoyo for a weapon— stood in front of his rather intimidating father and said this without flinching.

He briefly looked at his siblings through the cameras. All of them, even Damian, were watching in shocked silence and bated breaths.

They didn’t know who she was either.

“Are you threatening me, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?” Bruce’s eyes hardened into that familiar Batglare that could send shivers up the cruelest of men’s spines but only made the bluenette smile— which was, admittedly, more terrifying than he would like to admit.

“Leaders don’t threaten people, Mr. Wayne,” She responded. “They only uphold what is right for the safety of their people and follow through no matter the consequences. So, tell me, are you willing to become part of the burden that is placed on my shoulders or will you stay out of my way?”

“You can’t bard my family and our associates from a whole country because you’re scared.”

“You’re right, I am scared.” The girl sighed out, crossing her arms. “But not of you, and not of your family. I am scared for this world and what would become of it if Hawkmoth got in control of one of you. The Kents agreed, the Queens and the other heroes in his and the cities around him agreed. Why can’t you just understand the severity of this?”

Kents. Queens. Heroes.

She, undoubtedly, knew a lot of very dangerous information.

_ But Hawkmoth? Who was that? _

Tim pulled up a search and quickly cross referenced with France, finding a sight called the Ladyblogger and a bunch of news clippings showcasing the notorious Butterfly Terrorist of Paris. He shared that to his sibling’s phones, too.

She was the leader of what the reporter, a young woman named Alya Cesiare, liked to call the Miraculous Team— a bunch of heroes (that typically was just a duo) that fought with the powers of magic jewels that the Hawkie dude wanted?

But no one knew who they were but there was this Marinette Dupain-Cheng in one of the reporter’s videos. That is what his father called her. Cool, cool. She’s a fashion designer but also a superhero.

And, basically, she’s best friends with the chick trying to find out her identity?

But her partner was basically a leather clad furry?

And they’re fighting a magical terrorist named Hawkmoth who deals with neither hawks or moths?

What self-respecting villain names himself that?

“I understand well enough,” His father said, shoulder’s squaring as he met the young woman’s eyes.  _ Abort mission. Abort mission. Don’t make the yoyo-chick angry. _ “I understand that you are a child meant to be saving the world—”

“ _ Don’t _ patronize me,” Dupain-Cheng— Ladybug— growled. Tim swore he could feel the power behind her glare from where he was sitting. “I took the mantle of being Ladybug when I was thirteen years old and I became sole-guardian of the Miraculous this year alone. One wrong move and billions can be wiped from existence. I am not savior of Paris, I am not savior of France, I am not savior of the people. I am the savior of life as we know it. I have seen the world drowned and the moon cracked in half in the sky and I have fixed it all alone so that it wouldn’t be our future, so don’t sit there and look down at me because I am a child. Because I am meant to be saving the world. I  _ have  _ saved the world, Mr. Wayne, and I am allowed to tell you what to do to keep it safe.”

Bruce was silent, steely eyes ever leaving the young heroine’s frame and Tim could feel his heart pounding in anticipation. Was his father going to argue more like the stubborn man he is? Adopt her like he did all the too burdened children he came across? Introduce her to them all so he could know what the hell was going on?

“My family will stay out of your way,” He finally said, giving in. “Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I want to be regularly informed about the situation and if there is any way that my partners and I can help.”

“The more anyone knows, the more dangerous it gets,” Ladybug told him. “I appreciate the offer but I won’t be accepting it anytime soon.”

Bruce nods and fixes something on his suit before his and Marinette’s attention get moved to Alfred who comes strolling over to them as if seeing a magical ladybug-themed superhero arguing with Batman was an average, everyday thing.

_ Alfred’s seen weirder,  _ Tim decides _. Alfred has definitely seen weirder. _

“Will you be paying me another visit to discuss the restrictions?” His father asks, causing the bluenette to nod her head slightly. “When?”

“My class is on a field trip to WE tomorrow, we won the overseas trip and month’s stay for Gotham Academy so I’ll be here awhile to refine the understanding you seem to lack,” Ladybug just carries on as if she didn’t just poke his ego with a sharp stick. “We can discuss it during the lunch break, if I can slip away from everyone. I’ll bring Chat, too.”

_ Chat? _ Right, the leather furry! Her partner that destroys things.

Maybe having so much coffee wasn’t a good thing.


	7. In Your Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lukanette drabble where soulmates share dreams.
> 
> Luka is in love with his soulmate and he doesn't even know her name- but she learns his.  
> Is it selfish to just want to hold the person who has your heart in their hands?
> 
> He doesn't think so.

The background was bleary but the scene was all the same; scattered leaves floating through the air and clumping to the ground in odd piles with mud puddles here and there, the air was chilly and stuck to his lungs in little pricks but it felt nice.

In Luka’s dreams—  _ their  _ dreams, he supposed— autumn was nothing short of a safe, warm feeling despite the fact that it could send his body shivering and teeth chattering. He’d be wearing gloves and his favorite jacket, jeans and thick boats but still get shudders going down his spine.

He always met  _ her  _ in his dreams, too, and this night was no different.

She wore a long, soft pink coat and black leggings, her midnight hair fluttered around her shoulders and under a black beanie with little dots on it and her eyes—  _ god _ , her eyes were a brilliant blue that never failed to make him restless.

His body always got so high strung around her, aching to pull her close and never let go, burning up from the inside out and screaming at him to  _ just find her, why don’t you find her already? We need her! We need her so bad that it hurts! _

Luka wanted to; and he looked as well.

He’s been looking since he was a little eight year old hiding bruises and busted knuckles and teary eyes but had such a gentle girl visiting him after he finally felt safe enough to close his eyes.

He’s looked and looked and looked and looked.

She wasn’t in his classes, wasn’t in his school, didn’t hang out where he hung out and didn’t have any mutual friends.

He didn’t even know her name.

So what was he supposed to do?

They didn’t say much; in a dreamland like this, touch was so much more important but their short conversations told him enough.

Told him she lived in a bakery that her parents owed and that she loved them (and by god did he spend the next couple of weeks searching through every cafe or bakery or cake shop in Paris but never saw those blue eyes), that she wants to go into fashion, that she had bullies and insecurities but was the loveliest person he ever met and doesn’t even realize it.

And everything—  _ everything—  _ about her made him fall in love so deep that he could feel it in his bones.

These dreams, he knew, connected people to their soulmate.

So how did she get so lucky ending up with her?

The nameless, beautiful girl who haunted his dreams. The talented, brilliant girl whose laugh rolled over him like a wave of joy. The brave girl who held so much power in her hands and never dared abuse it. The girl he so desperately needed to know how to hold— how she would feel against his chest, in his arms. Not in their dreams, not when her warmth was shallow and her body melted against him almost like she was half-tangible and even less sure of herself.

They had a little place against the whirlwind of leaves that they always sat; a nice groove between two trees that always kept them dry and blocked the wind from biting at their cheeks.

Today he got their first, humming a melody into the nothingness around him and then there she was, washed in pink and black and with those freckles of hers, blue eyes watery as she sat down next to him and crawled into his lap without saying a word.

Luka held her— because even if he wanted to do so much more than just sit here in silence, this is what she needed— and continued to hum her song for the girl he fell in love with.

Some nights they do things that leave them waking up to a belly full of laughter and a smile so wide that their cheeks ache— other times, after bad days, he wipes the tears away from her face and wishes he could be there to do the same when she wakes up or she’ll hold him to her and hum his song right back.

This was one of the bad days and he wonders what it is this time.

A bully? A fight with a friend?

“Today was really hard,” She sniffles and he startled, not used to her talking much but ran his fingers through her hair in acknowledgement and comfort to her words. “My friends they… they all found their soulmates already so everyone was doing a paired up game thing but— but I was all alone and I missed you so much. This girl, she keeps lying and telling everyone I’m greedy for not being content with the people already in my lives. She’s making it seem like I don’t appreciate my friends and that I think I’m better than them but i don’t! I love my friends, I’m happy for them— I just want my soulmate, too. Is… Is it selfish to just want you with me already?”

“It’s not selfish at all, my melody,” Luka gently kissed her forehead, lips feeling like they’re brushing against nothing but solid air. “I want you already, too.”

She’s quiet for a moment before sitting up— consequently straddling his lap as well, her hands clutching onto his jacket and a frown coming onto her features as he brushes away the leftover tears staining her cheeks— and saying, “I want to know your name.”

“Are you sure?” Luka asks, not because he didn’t want to share it but because they… just never talked about this before.

Never said ‘I miss you’ or anything of the sort, though both knew that they were missed from just one look into their soulmate’s eyes. She never told him her name, so he did the same. She didn’t want to know at first and he didn’t ask why.

So this, the talking, the questions, the fact that they’re going to just be one step closer to finding each other, is a very unfamiliar feeling.

“I’m sure,” She looks him in the eyes and Luka practically melts. It should be illegal to be so beautiful, to look so cute even after she just got finished crying. “Do you, um, do you want to know mine?”

“Yes.” The answer is instant.

She smiles in reply and he grins back, bringing her hand up to kiss every knuckle before saying, “I’m Luka Couffaine.”

“Couffaine?” Her smile freezes, jaw going slack, and her eyes widen. “Wait, like, Juleka Couffaine?”

He blinks, “You know my sister?”

“Sister?” She shrieks, then laughs, her hands gently grabbing his face and planting a kiss onto his forehead. “I know who you are!”

“Wha—”

And then she disappears.

She’s awake and he’s stuck there and she knows his name but he doesn't know hers and he’s never been more  _ frustrated  _ in all his life before.

Luka wakes up and screams into his pillow, then a couple seconds later the partition separating his and Jules sides of the room is thrown open and his stupid sister is throwing a brush at him. 

“Shut up, idiot!” Juleka hisses, wobbling on her legs as she groggily stumbles back to her bed. “I was having a serious conversation with my baby flower.” Her ‘baby flower’ was Rose, her soulmate, and they’ve been annoyingly in love since they met in second grade.

His rolls over and crawls back under her covers, shoving her pillow over her head and swearing a couple times before falling silent. Luka glares at her before glaring up at the ceiling, the morning lift drifting in through the window and the familiar, comforting sound of the waves splashing against the Liberty is enough to remind him that the real peace is being with  _ her _ .

Not here, not in this bed, not with his sister— but in her arms, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh.

Grunting slightly as he sits up and stands out of bed, Luka gets dressed and opens to hatch to get out of his room, his guitar on his back as he grouchily goes into their kitchen and makes himself breakfast.

Juleka and his mom notice his grumpiness and, like true Couffaine’s, decide to embrace the chaos and be grumpy right back.

Like always, Luka walks with his sister to school after meeting up with Rose in their regular route but this time he’s silent and staring at the ground with pure annoyance ripping through him like a burning coal.

Why couldn’t he just know her name?

Was that too much to ask?

“Hey,” Juleka nudges his quietly as the school comes into sight, kids scattered all around. It was her first year but Luka’s last year in Lycee and while he was familiar with the school, he still kept a map in his bag in case his sister got lost and needed help. “You okay, loser? You’re acting strange.”

“Last night my soulmate learned my name,” He grumbled out the words. “And, apparently, she knows me as your older brother so she knows  _ you  _ but  _ I  _ didn’t get her name.”

“Poor Lukey,” She chuckles, making Rose pout up at her for being mean. “But, like… if I know her, she probably goes to our school. You get that, right?”

Luka just looks at her blankly.

“What?”

“Our school, dumbass. She goes to our school. My only friends who know I have a brother go here.”

Luka blinks. Once, twice. Three times.

Then he’s snapping his head up to the students around him and looking around, trying to pinpoint anyone that even resembles his melody as Juleka laughs at how frantic he turned and Rose cooed at how adorable it is that he is so excited.

Excited?

Nervous?

Feeling like he’s gonna throw up?

Feeling his heart pound in his chest?

Check, check, check, and check.

Then— then he catches the sight of midnight hair in the corner of his eye and whips around fast enough that his neck kinda protests at his movement but he just doesn’t care.

Because it’s her.

She’s wearing a soft blue dress because unlike in their dream it’s a little warm out and she has a black sweater cardigan that goes down to her knees and looks so comfortable and she’s wearing matching flats and her hair is in two pigtails and her eyes are bright and happy and so  _ blue  _ and he’s going to drown.

And god, she looks prettier than he could’ve imagined.

Is his heart supposed to beat this fast?

She has the same happy smile and same giggle as she sees him looking and he’s too shell shocked to do anything but watch as his soulmate bounds up to him and holds out a box of macaroons the color of his jacket.

“Hi,” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and shyly meets his eyes. “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng and um, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that before I woke up.”

“It’s really you,” Luka breathes out, hand raising to gently cup her cheek. Both of them give a low gasp at the wave of warmth and energy that washes over them as soon as their skin meets. Marinette leans into his touch with a soft smile and closes her eyes. “You’re really here.”

“Where else would I be?” She kisses the inside of his palm. “In your dreams?”

Luka laughs before pulling her into a bone-crushing hug, the poor box of macaroons falling to the ground but he’s too happy at the moment to feel guilty.

“God,” He breathes in her scent— chocolate chip cookies and the faint smell of vanilla. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

She’s tangible; right here, right now, in his arms she’s tangible.

Her arms wrap around him, too, and he starts to cry because every nightmare she helped him escape, every problem, every thought wearing on him too heavy that she soothed with the sound of his laugh just melts.

Nothing can compare to this.

She’s real and she’s his and they fit together perfectly.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever let her go.

_ Soulmates _ .

That’s the term people use, right?

It suddenly doesn’t feel descriptive enough.

“Luka,” Marinette says, pulling back enough that when she looks him in the eyes she can be the one to wipe away his tears instead of the other way around, and he can feel her warmth and the course feeling of hands that have been used but they're soft anyway. “Are you okay?”

“Perfect,” He pulls her closer, head falling to nuzzle into her neck. “I’m perfect.”

There were people scattered around them, kids from their school and friends and other couples but they didn’t care. They were together and there were no leaves or mud puddles or a groove between two trees, there was no wispy wind and half-tangible hugs and voices sometimes too soft to hear.

They were together, they didn’t have to miss each other or be alone.

And there wasn’t a single selfish thing about that.


	8. Downfall of a Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lila Rossi has gone too far and Luka Couffaine is going to do something about it. He is, after all, a Couffaine… a little chaos never frightened him.

Marinette came to him on a Friday afternoon with sad eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Her knees were bleeding and her wrists were bruised, hair messy and lip busted. Her dress was ruined with an ugly paint smear and her stockings underneath were ripped.

“I fell down the stairs,” She told him, looking away. “I didn’t mean to. I must’ve fallen into some paint.”

Luka didn’t believe this.

The wobble in her voice and the unsteady way she had stumbled right into his chest when she saw him was not the actions of a girl used to her own clumsy feet. Marinette was a strong girl and he knew how much of a burden was placed onto her shoulders. She did not crack easily and she did not do it over being a klutz or smudged paint. She did not cry over repairable things, over broken nails or washable clothes. She did not come to him looking upset and watery-eyed without feeling one step from breaking.

These were things he knew.

So, after calming her down and getting her to take a shower, offering her clean clothes and a warm bed, and letting the girl he fell in love with fall asleep on his chest to the sound of his heartbeat, he did some digging.

He went to his sister first and found out the real story.

Marinette was in the art workshop, Mrs. Bustier having set up a lesson in there during the last hour of the day, with the other members of the band as she helped Nathan and Marc on their story.

She was honestly just being nice— as Jules explained— then the bitch, his sister’s respective name for Lila, sauntered into the room and started to wail about how Mari was only helping the two co-creators because she wanted the credit for their work.

The girl he fell in love with defended herself, and her friends did the same but with most of the Akuma class— excluding the band members and Nathaniel— having fallen for her tails of woe and amazing life, yet false, life experiences, they sided with the liar instead of Mari.

Then, throughout the rest of the class, the bitch found ways to terrorize Marinette (going as far and tripping her and cutting her dress with scissors, dropping her paint onto her, pushing her into things, or slamming different objects onto her wrists) and then blame her for getting in the way.

Juleka and Rose had helped Marinette calm down a little as the girl broke into tears as soon as they were away from the rest of the Akuma class but she just kept panicking— and ran away. They didn’t know where she ended up until he texted them and asked.

Then Luka asked for Alya Cesaire’s phone number and made an unsettling discovery.

Marinette and the blogger were no longer best friends.

And, horrifyingly, she had been accused of being a bully, a liar, and a manipulator. Lila painted his melody in the way that everyone should view her instead.

Finally he created a group chat with a few allies he could trust.

He contacted Adrien Agreste (because even if the boy had been painfully oblivious that Marinette had once been in love with him, he would do anything for his lady), Kagami Tsurugi and her girlfriend and spoiled brat, Chloe Bourgeois, the boyfriends Marc and Nate, and then the rest of his band.

He named it ‘The Marinette Protection Squad’ and, just like that, the war was on its way.

*-*-*

Lila Rossi was waiting in the back of the school by herself when Luka arrived. He found her hidden between one of the walls and a thick oak tree and he didn’t bother to hide himself as he crossed the grounds over to her.

She saw him, surprise lighting her features for a second before it shifted into a— what he would guess, if it wasn't on someone so repulsive— a seductive smile.

“Luka!” She squealed, sauntering up to him and stopping a few feet away. “How are you, sweetheart? It’s been forever since we saw each other, since your last year in Lycee, right?”

“I don’t care,” Luka took a step back, face emotionless as he looked down at her. His eyes gave away nothing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’ve made a lot of people angry, Lila.”

“A-Angry?” She stammered, feigning innocence by putting her hands over her heart with too wide of eyes to be real. “Why would they be angry with me?”

“Because you’re a liar and you hurt the people they care about— you hurt the person  _ I  _ care about.”

“Oh,” Lila straightened her back. “You must be talking about my bully.”

“Your bully?” Luka scoffed, less than amused. “Sure, I’ll play along for a minute. Who is your bully.”

“She’s... s-she is Marinette,” The liar sniffles. “And she says such horrible things about me and they’re not true! She pushes me and, and she rips up my homework and she insults me. Whatever you heard isn’t true, I swear!”

“Are you done?” He sighed out, shrugging his shoulders to make them relax more. “You’re a lying bitch, I get it. I’m not here to let you try to sink your claws under my skin, not that it would work, I’m here to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?” Lila asks, voice going a bit nastier than she probably intended.

_ What a two-faced bitch. _

“That you should watch your back,” He says simply, turning slightly to walk back to his house. “You pushed a lot of people into your enemy list by threatening Marinette and now you’re about to face the consequences. It’s only fair to give you a head’s up.”

“Marinette,” she shrieks, “is nothing but a liar and a  _ horrible  _ person—”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, no matter what anyone says, is the kindest person you will ever meet,” Luka snarled, whirling on the sausage-haired girl so fast that she stumbled back, unprepared. “And I’m  _ hers _ . You hurt the wrong person, you egocentric bitch, and you’re going to pay for it.”

Lila gaped for a second before she forced an innocent look on her face, mouth opening to say something but the musician just continued, eyes hard and narrowed and angry, mouth drawn into a tight line.

He was a generally calm person, he could handle a lot before ever blowing a fuse. Because he was also a Couffaine at heart. He thrived in chaos where others wither and when it came to those he loved, nothing would stop him from protecting them.

_ Especially  _ when the one he loved and had to defend was the girl he fell in love with.

“She is thoughtful and compassionate and selfless and astounding in how she will push herself to the knife’s edge just to make sure her loved ones are okay. She is a cinnamon roll but the fiercest ally you could ever have. There is no stopping her, there is no convincing her to step down when she’s standing up for something that’s right— when she’s standing up for someone, unless that someone is herself.”

He took a step closer and, well, that must’ve been pretty intimidating because she scrambled to take one back, causing a humorless chuckle to leave his lips.

He was his mother’s son but he had enough of his father in him to leave others terrified.

“And you want to convince me that just because you have the Akuma class, Mlle. Bustier, and M. Damocles so far up your ass that people will hate her? Really? Let me tell you something,  _ sweetheart _ ," He gave a cruel smirk, voice mocking as he repeated what she called him earlier. “This isn’t you and all your puppets against Marinette, it’s now you against the entire school. You might pretend to rule this place but she is the one who everyone looks up to and loves. She’s their sunshine child and leader and she has connections  _ everywhere _ . She knows people that could make your life a living hell and it is her kindness alone that has spared you in the past. And you should have cut your losses when you had the chance because I, however, am not as kind. You declared war, Mlle. Rossi, do not be surprised when your downfall comes knocking on your door.”

With that and smirking at the ugly glare on her face, Luka saunters away, whistling a happy tune despite how tightly his fists are clenched inside his pockets.

It’s a week later when they make the first move.

Ivan and Rose, because despite her size she puts up one hell of a fight, are Marinette’s bodyguards during school. They prevent her from getting home while Mylene, Marc, and Nate make sure to record anything and everything Lila does that’s incriminating towards her reputation. 

Juleka is on sabotage duty during school to make sure any plans backfire onto the bitch while Adrien is the distraction. Both were excellent at their job. Almost scarily good.

Outside of school Kagami and Luka strategize and come up with plans to make sure anything Lila says can be used against her. They organize groups and make sure that Marinette and her family doesn’t get bothered by Lila or any of her followers.

One by one more people in the school help. Marinette’s friends from different classes going from the highest grade level to the first year students at Lycee all jump in when needed— when they overhear a lie and debunk it by pulling up proof or contacting the people involved directly (Marinette isn’t the only one with contacts).

One by one Lila is getting more isolated, one by one she’s losing her power.

And it’s so satisfying to see that Luka goes to sleep laughing.

It’s not even a full month before the Akuma class had fully left Lila’s side, the last to turn was Alya— the reporter so distraught over how she realized she had been treating her former best friend that she had a mental breakdown.

It was a month on the dot when Honeybee and Ryuko got video footage of Lila snatching one of Hawkmoth’s butterflies from the air with a wide grin and a “What can I do for you today, boss?” and it was a week later when her life got ruined.

(Marinette was so overjoyed that the constant terror— in her civilian— life was going away that she kissed Luka until their lungs ached and, just like that, Luka got revenge and a girlfriend in one sweep.

And that girlfriend was very, very grateful for it too. Most nights he went to bed with bruise-kissed lips and a beautiful girl in his arms. Marinette looked happier than she did in years and all the planning and frustration melted away when he saw her wake up with a smile.

He couldn’t protect her when she was fighting an Akuma but he’s proved more than enough times that he could protect her when she goes back to having two left feet.)

First she got expelled from her Lycee for false accusations, thief, bullying, and cheating. 

Then her lies— ever last one of them— were exposed and her mother was informed about what her daughter was up to and even waved her daughter’s diplomatic immunity— being absolutely disgusted with her daughter’s behavior— when the court cases of people suing her for fraudulence, harassment, threats, attempted murder, and acts of terroism.

Last, but not least, Lila was banned from Paris and all the cases stacked up against her were moved to a different court within France so they wouldn’t even have to see her again.

Though they did see her screaming and shrieking and snarling towards Luka as he joyfully waved at her when the bitch was getting dragged to the back of a cop car, “You! You did this! You made this all happen! I’m going to get you back for this, Couffaine, I swear I’m going to get you!”

She seemed absolutely insane, drool going down her chin from how hard she had been yelling, eyes frantic and face flushed and she jerked like a wild animal trying to get out of her cuffs and the officer’s hands that held her back from attacking the young musician.

He was a Couffaine and this chaos made him delighted to witness.

Afterall, it’s not everyday you get to see the downfall of the bitch who made the love of your life miserable.

Luka just laughed and sent her a cocky wave, “I look forward to it,  _ sweetheart _ .”

Well… you can’t say she wasn’t warned.


	9. A Surprise Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka comes back from University in Lyon to visit Marinette (and his family, of course) but he doesn't tell her... let's see how things plan out when the young heroine learns that her favorite human is back in Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually pretty fun for me. Hope you guys enjoy it!

“Did you know,” Marinette said, twisting an ebony and silver ring around on her finger. It was one of Luka’s and she rarely, if ever, took it off. When he went off to college and moved to Lyon, a mere two hour train ride from Paris, he gave her a couple pieces of his jewelry, his favorite hoodie, a Jagged Stone t-shirt, and a promise of returning. “That I miss you?”

“Yeah, Melody, I know.” The Musician’s voice was clearly wistful despite. “I miss you too, more than you can imagine.”

“I think I can imagine it well enough,” She whispered back.

They were on a call, speakerphone allowing them to lay back on their separate balconies and star-gaze. The black spaces between the stars seems farther apart than usual, the moon more alone than before.

The distance felt longer than it was.

The days went by so slow, each hour lacking something and each night dragging on and missing a vital piece needed for good sleep. That wasn’t a piece, however, but a person— Luka. She wanted him closer, close enough to hold and laugh with and see that dopey smile he always had around her and blush at his sly comments and cheek-nuzzles after he kisses her forehead.

She misses the boy that, for the last couple of years, had become her best friend.

Alya was… supportive and an amazing friend but she just didn’t  _ understand _ .

Luka did, though.

Whenever she needed someone to listen without judgement or without trying to solve her problems for her— to just listen, he was there. And when the musician needed someone to talk to him, to distract him from his thoughts and whatever was making his mind a too-heavy place to be, she was there for him.

He was her shoulder to cry on and who made her laugh and she was the same, holding him when his heart ached in his chest with memories it couldn’t forget.

They were each other’s rocks in an otherwise chaotic, always shifting tsunami of a life.

Marinette fully supported Luka following his dreams and going to college and getting a degree that will push him along and better his musical career— she just wished it didn’t hurt so much to be away from him.

She had half a school year left before her time in Lycee would be up and she’d be, coincidentally, going to the same university as him. It didn’t seem to come quick enough, though.

They were both busy. Luka had gigs with his new band called the _ Silver-hearts of Serpents, _ practice, and extracurricular activities and she had to work on her designs for anyone who commissioned MDC— the name on her website— and they both had schoolwork and classes to attend to so that meant little to no time to catch up with each other during the day.

Thankful for being in the time zone, they tried to make it work and usually called before going to bed and when they woke up and texted in between classes or things that kept them on a constantly shifting schedule.

But it wasn’t the same as just being able to go across town and curl up into their favorite person’s arms and just sleep the weight of the day’s events away. It wasn’t the same as laughing when stranded in a heavy downpour because neither of them checked if it was going to rain. It wasn’t the same as chasing Andre’s Sweetheart Icecream around for half the day just to drop it from tripping over themselves seconds later even though neither of them believed in the magic behind it.

It just wasn’t the same.

_ It wasn’t fair either _ , Marinette decided,  _ that the boy I fell in love with and who genuinely likes me back has to be so far away. _

But she didn’t tell him that— not when she knew it would make Luka feel even guiltier for leaving. They were each other’s greatest support system and they always would be, and he didn’t like being gone when she was handling so much.

That so much being Alya unable to understand that Marinette simply didn’t like Adrien anymore— her falling for Luka and falling for him hard; falling for him in a way that felt deeper and closer than anything she ever did for her former crush— and still creating schemes to get them together, to the point where it was getting dangerous and rather ridiculous.

She had homework, exams coming up, commissions, hours needed to help her parent’s in the bakery, other hours dedicated to helping friends, and being Ladybug and the burden that came with the earrings (not that, to her knowledge, Luka knew about).

To top that off, she dealt with a lot more frustrating people at Lycee than she did at Dupont, including belligerent teenage boys who don’t understand the word no or respect boundaries.

So she really missed him.

So much so that it left her heart aching.

_ Only a couple months _ , she reminded herself. It would only be a couple more months till the summer. Till they would be at the same University (and sharing the same apartment— it’s less expensive and they always used to joke that they’d make great roommates with how often they spent over at the other’s place).

“Melody,” Luka said, voice deeper than before but just as smooth. “Did you fall asleep on me?”

“No,” Marinette yawned, covering her mouth with a small squeak as she curled up and turned towards her phone, squinting at the bright screen that showed his contact picture— dopey smile and all. “I just got lost in thought, sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby.” He reassured and she felt her mouth tug up into a warm smile. She loved when he called her that or his other pet names for her, it made her feel special. “But you sound tired and I know you have a test tomorrow morning, you should go to bed.”

“But Luka,” She whined. “I want to talk with you more. I really missed you today and, and I have more things that I want to tell you.”

“Come on, my Melody,” He coaxed and she pouted. He knew she’d do what he wanted when he used that  _ stupid,  _ attractive, comforting voice. It simply wasn’t fair. “Both of us are free tomorrow afternoon, remember? You’re only going to watch Kitty Section practice then going home and I only have my own practice to attend to. I’m sure we’ll be able to talk after.” Then his voice got softer. “I’ll always be here for you and I’ll always listen to what you have to say, but I don’t want to keep you up when that risks your grades and, more importantly, your health.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Marinette grumbles, groggily getting up and moving over to her hatch where she easily slipped into her bed and snuggled under the covers. “Can you at least talk to me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course, beautiful.” Luka agreed, making a sleepy blush to climb her cheeks. “Anything in particular?”

“Just about things that make you happy.”

“Well, I know this one girl and she’s the most incredible person I ever met. She had amazing blue eyes and is a very talented fashion designer. Her smiles, man, her smiles make me melt and—”

“Luka,” Marinette giggles. “Not about me.”

“But you make me the happiest,” He protests.

“Sap,” She smiles, eyes closing as she laughs quietly one more time, head sinking into her pillow. “Can you… can you sing me something?”

“Mhm,” Luka hums and it’s not long before she’s falling asleep to the sound of her song, of the one he made for her.

That night she dreamt of two tattooed arms holding her and teal dyed, messy hair falling in front of aqua-blue eyes and woke up alone with tears staining her pillow— Tikki offered her a warm smile and a pat on the cheek but it didn’t seem to help the cold, lonely feeling in her chest.

*** * ***

The day had not been kind to Marinette.

She woke up with a headache, didn’t have enough time for a proper meal but remembered to grab a granola bar after Luka texted her and reminded her to eat, got a pretty bad bruise on her wrist from getting it slammed in a closing door, tripped multiple times, and managed to ruin her lecture’s notes with her coffee.

On the brightside she kept Luka’s hoodie clean— as today she decided to wear it over a simple white t-shirt and paired it with a black skater skirt, lace stockings, and combat books— and managed to not face-plant into anything by the time school ended and she was allowed to pack her things and start the walk to the boathouse to watch Kitty Section preform.

Since Luka was in college and lived too far away they had to find a new guitarist, just like Luka had to find new members to form a band.

Luckily Juleka mentioned Marc, Nathaniel’s boyfriend and the writer to his artist, played the guitar and was really good at it so within no time they were back to practicing and finding a new dynamic for the group.

Luka got lucky with some of his old friends and formed his new band which was just as good, if not better, than his old one but that was only due to a lot of extra practice and more opportunities to grow.

Axel was the band’s bassist, Bash was the drummer, Tyra was the back-up vocalist and keyboardist, and Luka was the guitarist, lead vocalist, and leader.

Marinette couldn’t wait until she could see them perform live. Luka had sent her videos and recordings of their music and songs or just of him singing or playing guitar but she knew first hand that nothing compared to seeing it in person.

And she knew that, either way, his band would be amazing.

“Marinette!” A soft voice called from behind her, making the young bluenette startle and turn slightly on the sidewalk to see who was calling her. It was Rose, a sweet smile on her lips and she tugs her girlfriend along.

As soon as her and Juleka catch up, Marinette tilts her head to the dark-haired girl’s silent greeting and drifts to the side so the couple wouldn’t have to awkwardly get out of the way.

“You’re watching us practice, right?” Rose asks. There’s an energetic bounce in her step that Marinette can’t help but to be suspicious of, and the slight smirk on Juleka’s lips don’t help.

“Yeah,” Marinette says, adjusting her purse to be in front of her as a group of obvious tourists cater to the side and almost crash into her, not wanting Tikki to get tossed around. “Do you know what you guys are playing yet? I heard Ivan mention something about revamping one of your original songs.”

“Oo!” The blonde giggles, wide eyes excited as she starts to rant about the different things her and Ivan were brainstorming earlier to improve their old work.

Her girlfriend nodded and added a couple quiet things here and there while Marinette listened, pilotely following along with the conversation and her mind strayed to Luka and thinking about what he was up to.

No doubt working on his own songs, hanging out with his band mates as they practice.

“Mylene is coming too,” Rose tells her and Marinette blinks back into reality, narrowly dodging a man skating with a yelped out apology. “So even if you won’t be alone, you’ll have company!”

“Uh,” She pauses, racking her brain to know if she missed something in the conversation. “Who’s going to watch the practice other than Mylene? Is Nate coming to support Marc?”

“Nate?” Her friend paused her skipping to let out an excited squeal. “Oh, you don’t know! Well—”

Juleka suddenly spun her girlfriend into her arms and pulled her into a kiss, causing Marinette to step away awkwardly but not retreat. Paris was a welcoming city and full of diverse and accepting people but there would always be that one jerk who had a problem with people loving other people and finding a problem if they happened to be the same gender— so she would keep a look out just in case someone wanted to cause a problem.

When the pair of girlfriends broke away a couple seconds later, Rose seemed too flustered to continue or even remember what she was saying and the bluenette laughed at how smug the blonde’s girlfriend looked.

A couple minutes went by filled with light banter between the couple and an amused Marinette refusing to join a side before the three of them got to the docs and made their way onto the boathouse.

“The rest of the band will be here soon and I want to be here when they do to ask Marc something,” Juleka says, a smirk just visible under the half of her face hidden by hair. “Can you do me a favor and grab me an extra sweater from Luka’s side of the room, Marinette? I started to keep some of my things in there when he left.”

“Uh, sure?” The bluenette nods, frowning slightly. “But didn’t he say not to—”

“Oh!” Rose suddenly bursts, whipping around to face her girlfriend. “That’s clever! You—”

And then they start kissing again and that’s Marinette’s cue to go.

She passes Anarka on the haul and gives her a friendly wave that the older woman returns with a wide smirk that she now knows her daughter inherited and quickly went below deck and crossed over to where Luka’s room was.

She grips her elbows with both hands, rocking on the balls of her feet with every step as she paces down the hallway, trying to hype herself up enough to actually go into his room.

It would be so…  _ strange _ .

She was never in there without him being there before and it would be full of his things but the most important ones gone— the wall of guitar picks packed up and now put up in his apartment’s living room from what she saw from the video he sent, the little trinkets gone from the desk now bare, and his bed only having a bare mattress and the walls without postures or any pictures.

She doesn’t know how it would feel but she knows that it won’t be good, she knows it will make the empty ache in her heart stretch all the wider.

But now she’s in front of Luka’s door and she doesn’t have a choice.

Marinette took a deep breath and turned the hatch on the door, the metal giving a slight creak to it as she awkwardly used her bodyweight to open it, grumbling to herself as it hung heavily halfway open— not noticing the group of three that were holding their breath at her entry from the middle of the room— and one of the sleeves that were way too big for her got caught in one of the crooks on the edge.

“Aw,” Her brows furrowed and she pouted as she tried to tug the sleeve free, but of course the world was against her and she somehow made it worse. “Mr. Sleeve, I’ve had a really bad day, can you please just— ahah! Thank you!”

Freeing herself from the door, Marinette pulled the sleeves over her hands for better control of the jacket and twisted around to begin the search for Juleka’s sweater when she met a pair of vivid brown eyes— eyes she definitely wasn’t prepared for.

“Eek!” Squeaking and startled, the young heroine takes a stumbling step back and ends up falling onto her butt, skirt thankfully in place and with her wide, blue eyes traitorously filling with water.

“Oh my God, she fell!”

“Shit, Bash, you scared her!”

“Aw, that’s a cute skirt. Do you think she’d tell me where she got it?”

Came the voices of the three strangers that were now all focused on her, eyes pinned onto the girl that fell as she stared right back, a slow race of tears from the day’s stress finally snapping trailing down her cheeks.

“W-Who are you guys?” Marinette stammered out, mind reeling and anxiety having already taken hold of her even before she noticed the trio, just noticing the sting in her palms and the burning heat of the ripped open skin. “You, you shouldn’t be in here, this is a p-private room!”

“I’m Bash Vulcan,” The guy with vivid brown eyes— and the one who scared her— had slicked back blonde hair, a thick black sweatshirt, ripped skinny jeans with converse, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he offered her a hand up.

She refused and just remained on the floor, not trusting her legs to keep her up if she stood at the moment. Feeling extraordinarily pathetic, Marinette just couldn’t focus on anything besides her pounding heart. She defeated Akumas on a weekly basis but couldn’t handle a couple strangers?

It made her feel so weak.

And those  _ stupid  _ tears were still falling.

“Sorry this asshole scared you, he didn't mean to. I’m Axel, by the way. Axel Jupiter?” The one who swore and reprimanded Bash gave her a sympathetic smile that she barely registered and waved at her, his light brown hair flopping in front of his face from where it reached his shoulders. He had a punk style to him— and he said his name like it was supposed to mean something.

Maybe it was.

Maybe on a good day or with a slightly calmer heart Marinette would’ve placed who they are but she just came up blank. Blank and panicking.

The only girl in the Trio had a pixie cut that was a pastel green and a nose ring and anyone with eyes could tell that her style was gothic anad that she simply didn’t give a shit by the tilted smirk of her lips— that only deepened as she pointed to Marinette’s skirt and asked, “Where’d ya get it, girly? I’m Tyra Bellona, I guess since these idiots gave their last name too.”

Tyra. Axel. Bash.

They’re in Luka’s boathouse. They’re in Luka’s room. They’re in Luka’s band.

The Band.

_Luka_.

“L-Luka?” Marinette sniffled, wiping away her tears as she sat up and winced at the way her palms stung, the broken skin and forming scabs still tender. “Why are you guys here without Luka?” She asked, using the hatch’s edge to pull herself into a standing position.

It was Bash’s turn to look suspicious and he stepped closer and pointed his finger at her, eyebrows raised, “Everyone was supposed to know why and where. So who are you, huh? Whatcha doin’ here? Are you some crazy fangirl that snuck on board?”

“What?” The young heroine swiped at her tears again, voice slightly croaky as she took a shaky step back. “N-no! I’m not a fangirl! I was getting a sweatshirt for Juleka and—”

“I smell lies! What’s your name? Don’t lie. I can smell them. I can.”

“Man,” Axel throws something at the back of Bash’s head, making his bandmate back up. “Leave the girl alone, you prick. Look at her jacket? Look familiar?”

Tyra and Bash looked her up and down, the gothic chick laughing after a second before she shoves the latter in the shoulder with a cocky look playing on her features, “Just wait until Couffaine finds out you made his girl cry, Vulcan. I can’t wait to see him flip his shit.”

“Wait,” Marinette drew the attention back to herself. “Luka is here?”

“Aw, he didn’t tell her,” Bash snickered making Axel hit his gut before gesturing to the other door that leads back to the deck but on Juleka’s side, and explaining how Luka snuck up there thinking that ‘his melody’ wasn’t there yet and wanting to make sure that his demon of a sister didn’t get too smug and spill the beans.

Marinette tiredly, but with excitement running through her veins, dashed back through the hatch door— being quickly followed by the bandmates, because who would want to miss the drama?— and ran all the way up to the deck.

Anarka laughed whole-heartedly as she passed and yelled out, “Go get ‘em, lass!” that had her blushing up to her ears but she was simply too happy to care.

Luka was here! In hugging distance!

And the jerk didn’t even tell her!

She saw Luka sitting on the couch, his guitar next to him and his leg bouncing with nervous energy. He ran his hand through his hair and tugged, an anxious look on his face as he talks to Rose about something, eyes closed as he grumbled.

Which was perfect because he didn’t even see Marinette and didn’t get the choice until she was throwing herself on top of him, legs on either side of his and knees tucked into his hips as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his neck.

“Oomph!” Luka let out a loud breath, eyes flying open at the abrupt weight settled onto his person but then softening as he saw the girl in his lap, his arms coming around her and holding her to him just as tight— his nose nudging the top of her head as he took in her scent of chocolate cookies and vanilla. “Melody?”

Rose was squealing somewhere in the background while Juleka and Bash snickered, Axel cooing at them while Tyra complained about the disgusting gooey-ness but all of that lended into the background.

All that mattered was the two of them— the fact that they were here, in the same space, breathing each other in, holding onto the other as tightly as they could.

All that mattered was them.

Not Juleka’s scheming falling into place, not Rose’s excited chatter or how smug his mom had been or how horrible the day had been leading up to this point. Just her and just him.

“No,” Marinette mumbled, flexing her arms around him as she fully relaxed into him. “You don’t get to talk. You might forget to tell me something very,  _ very  _ important. Like, I don’t know, coming back to Paris?”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Luka nuzzled his hand against her hip, rubbing his thumb in circles as he mumbled into her hair. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I missed you,” She replied, forgiveness in her tone. “But let me be prepared next time.”

“I will,” He kissed her forehead, putting the tiniest amount of space between them. “And you know I missed you too, right?”

She shook her head.

“Liar,” Luka tapped his fingers on her sides and dug them in a bit, tickling her and making Marinette giggle loudly as she still refused to move away from him. “You just gonna stay there, baby?”

“Mhm,” The young heroine hummed, placing a light kiss onto the edge of his jaw.

“Did you meet everyone already?” He asked. “Assuming that’s how you found out I was here— seeing them?”

“She met us,” Tyra cut in, a cackle in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Vulcan made her cry and scared her, she fell down and hurt her hands I think.”

“He also then got all up in your girl’s face and accused her of being a crazy fangirl.” Axel oh-so-helpfully replied.

“Traitors!”

“ _ Bash _ .”

“Oh, fuck.” The aforementioned boy squeaks out at Luka’s growl. “Dude, I am  _ so  _ sorry, I didn’t know she was—”

“We’ll talk later about it,” Luka brushed him off— which, coming from a Couffaine, is never good as they are people who like to be blunt and solve issues as soon as possible. To delay it means that, well, you screwed up majorly. “Melody, let me see your hands.”

“No.” Marinette grumbles, earning laughs from Tyra and his sister, who the guitarist quickly flips off. “I’m comfortable and it’s just scraped and I missed you.”

“Good luck getting her off in the next hour,” Juleka said, her hair pushed out of her face so when the young heroine peeked out from his neck she could see a sly smile spreading across her features. “Marinette’s been whining about not seeing you for weeks and she’s as stubborn as they come.”

Marinette flips her off, too.

“Aw!” Rose giggles, bouncing on her toes. “You’re becoming a real Boat Kid, Mari! They’re all adorably crass like that!”

“Says you, Rose,” She shot back. “I’ve known you for years and you’ve always sworn like a sailor so it was no surprise to me that you started dating one.” This got laughs from Axel and Luka, the latter’s chuckles she could feel in her own chest.

“Hey,” Juleka said, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend. “Leave my Manic Unicorn alone, it’s cute that her favorite word is fuck.”

“I watched your Manic Unicorn swear out a teacher when we were seven.”

“I genuinely would’ve paid to see that.”

“Oh!” Rose squealed, a soft expression on her face. “I remember that, she was so rude! Mrs. Palanchi never did anything about the girls who bullied Mari. It made me cry.”

“Aw, it’s okay. Marinette can’t get bothered by them now,” Juleka patted her head and blew a raspberry onto her cheek that had her girlfriend’s sullen expression go all giddy again. After knowing Rose for so many years, she knew the blondie was a walking mood-whiplash.

“Wait, wait,” Azel held up a hand, drawing attention as his eyebrows pinched together. “Your girl’s name is Marinette? I thought it was Melody!”

“Nope,” The young heroine says. “It’s Marinette, you can call me Mari though. Rockstar here just calls me Melody.”

“Well then it’s nice to meet you, Marinette.” Axel did a playful bow, reminding her of a different boy in black. “This prick was always shy about the details even when he could go on and on for literal hours about you. Where’d you meet?”

“Erm…”

_ What was an appropriate way to say ‘his room because I was having a breakdown over a different guy that I was in love with and we sort of just clicked from there after he teased me about my stutter’? _

“Jules had her over to watch the band practice,” Luka, thankfully, cut in— probably having felt her body tense slightly. “We became friends after that and just got closer since then.”

Not as close as she wanted, as she’d rather be a girlfriend than best friend but this was  _ Luka  _ and she’d take as much as him as she could and love it until she didn’t know how to anymore.

“When did you guys start dating?” Tyra asks, popping the gum that she just put into her mouth. “Couple years, right?”

Luka’s silent for a painfully long second before informing, “We’re not dating.”

Someone Marinette doesn’t see who but would take a wild guess that it’s Bash as he starts choking on the water he had been trying to swallow and the other two bandmates start protesting their confusion.

Sometimes she questioned if Luka still liked her— but Marinette had her fair share in experiencing unrequited feelings and she knows that this is not what that looks like— and it’s times like these that she hopes against hope that he likes her as much as she likes him because she fell and she fell hard and she can’t be the only one who fell.

Not again, not this time.

Not with  _ him _ .

The next hour passes by in a breeze. Mylene and Ivan show up with Marc and soon Kitty Section is practicing, the other band handing out advice and compliments where they’re earned and Anarka drifting off to an unknown place to let the teenagers ‘cause mayhem as they please’.

Ivan and Mylene left early for a double date they had been planning with Alya and Nino and somehow they managed to convince Marc to drag Nate along so it was a group date.

Eventually everyone settled down into a circle around eight at night, having eaten and caught up or got to know each other better.

Marinette learned that Tyra was a little snarky but overall entertaining in the way she so passionately hated everything but loved to mess with Bash— Bash himself was a bit of an idiot but a goofball and it made him loveable enough to forgive the scabs on her palms (Luka didn’t agree with this). Axel was Luka’s best friend and he was a generally sane person but he was fiercely competitive and loved to cause arguments.

It was the most fun the young heroine had in a while and the boy she loved was by her side, so what could go wrong?

“Let’s play Truth or Dare,” Rose giggled, turning to Juleka with wide, puppy-dog eyes. “Oh, please! Can we?”

And like the lovesick fool Jules was she gave in.

Marinette knew something was either going to go wrong or horribly embarrassing from her by the wicked gleam in the purple haired girl’s eyes and, not even five minutes later (and after Bash was dared to drink hotdog juice), Luka got a dare.

Do  _ Seven Minutes in Heaven _ with ‘his Melody’.

Stupid Juleka.

But also thank you Juleka.

Which— after making sure it was okay with her— he agreed to so it was safe to say all her nerves were on fire. And it absolutely didn’t help that Tyra snarkingly called out, “If you start bumping uglies, put on a sock on the door.” after them.

“One of these days,” Luka sighed out as he closed his bedroom door behind them. “I’m really going to kill my sister.”

“I’ll help,” Marinette giggled at her, though her face was still a burning red at what Juleka had insinuated— which they, of course,  _ wouldn’t  _ be doing.

“So,” He said and her smile widened at his semi-awkward tone, her hands bracing herself against the hatch as she watched the musician sit on his bed, twisting the bracelet on his wrist. “What now?”

She wouldn’t say it was  _ entertaining  _ watching Luka be so nervous but it definitely wasn’t something she saw very often so it definitely was amusing in some sense of the word. Usually she was the awkward one who didn’t know what to do with herself, not him.

“What?” She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know how to play?”

Luka gave her a flat look, “I’m in university. Of course I know how to play seven minutes in heaven.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Baby…” He sighed. “Don’t get me wrong because I do want to kiss you, I just— I don’t think… fuck, this is why I have my guitar.” He grumbled. “Words are  _ not  _ my thing.”

“That’s okay,” Marinette smiles at him, tugging his jacket’s sleeves down further. “I mean, you’ve seen my stammering. We’ll just not be good with words together.”

“Together?” Luka questions, a slight quirk to his lips as his head tilted, teal hair obscuring his eyes.

“Mhm,” She nods. “ _ Together _ . You and me.”

“I like the sound of that,” He smirks back at her, reaching slightly to tug her forward, the young heroine now standing between his legs. “You asked if I knew how to play— it’s my turn for the question. Want me to teach you how?”

“And you say you’re not good with words,” She sasses, a giggle falling from her mouth as Luka rolls his eyes and takes her chin into his hand, dragging her face down so they are eye-level, both of their eyes closing, and kisses her.

It’s not a heated kiss, not one that had Marinette’s heart racing but… it was one that made something slot into place in her mind, like something was missing before but finally found its way home.

As his mouth moved against hers, she leaned into his touch, hands fluttering through his hair and tugging as the strands, his own moving to cup the back of her neck and to the side of her jaw, angling her head for better access.

The emotions spilled out between them; the love they kept tucked into their sleeves, the joy, the passion and overwhelming amount of just… feeling safe and comfortable with each other.

It was by no means a kiss without soul.

Luka would go back to his university and she’d be stuck here for another month, their lives were so different and they were busy. Marinette had the responsibilities with the Miraculous and he had his band and they both had classes and a future neither could write out a solid plan for no matter how hard they tried.

So maybe it wasn’t the best timing, maybe it wasn’t the best situation or the best reason to kiss or the best way they could have gotten together, by a surprise visit nonetheless— but they were  _ together _ .

And, at the end of the day, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?


	10. What She Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette learns what it is like to die, to feel empty, to love, to be loved, and to lose those she loved. She learns what it means to be truly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jasonette Fic, angst and hurt/comfort with some pain but it ends cute.

7-years-old and Marinette is told by one Chloe Bourgeois that she will never be worth anything in life, because ugly little girls like her don’t deserve attention. She’s pushed to the ground but she does not cry at her split knees or the scraps stinging on her palms; she stands up and she doesn’t talk back but she returns from school to a warm house and caring parents.

Her soulmate mark appears a month later and her bully spends a month sneering at the Phoenix resting against the inside of her wrist, dancing in reds and darkness and resurrection.

A week later, she learns that there are more important people to listen to than those who make her cry at 8 in the morning.

9-years-old and Marinette thinks that the blonde mayor’s daughter is the worst person she will have the unfortunate chance to meet. She gets insulted and glared at and has a hard time making friends but she is strong and she is kind and she will continue to stand even if she doesn’t know how important it is to get up after you fall.

She’s having dreams of dark streets and color nights; of dark gargoyles hanging off buildings, dirty-faced children, a city drowned in fear. She sees the face of a dizzy woman and an angry man and she wakes up terrified because there are bruises on a body that is not her own and the ache of an empty stomach underneath their palms. When she looks into a mirror there is a boy with a too-serious expression for such a young face and eyes blue enough to drown her in the sadness there.

She learns that there are some children out there who never had the chance to learn kindness before they learned how to survive.

10-years-old and Marinette is shoved into a row of lockers by a boy she doesn’t recognize, her pink dress and pigtails sneered at until tears fill her eyes. She doesn’t know how to defend herself but she tries until she’s shoved onto the school’s grimy floor and breaks a finger trying to catch herself. She does not cry, she does not say sorry, she does not think that it is fair for her teacher to say, “Boys will be boys,” instead of “I’m sorry you got hurt on my watch.” She will continue to stand up for herself even after a broken wrist.

She asks her parents about the nightmares, about the boy with blue eyes and an empty stomach; they tell her about her soulmate and they tell her that one day, she is going to meet him and love him how their parents loved each other.

13-years old and Marinette does not understand the word  _ sacrifice  _ but she is about to learn. She flinches at the sight of magic-tainted earrings and feels her fingertips run cold with insecurity— because she never wanted this, she didn’t want to be a hero and she didn’t want to be in charge of saving people when, in the past, she never knew how to save herself.

It has been a year and she starts to see flashes of a man in black and a large house that feels too clean to be tainted, too open to be safe. She sees the reflection of a boy in red, green, and yellow and feels the comfort of the heavy books underneath his fingers. He never got the chance to be smart before, never got the right education, never learned something unless it helped him stay alive— and she goes to sleep smiling because even though he’s not quite happy, at least he’s safe.

15-years-old and Marinette is dreaming of a man in green and purple and she’s sobbing because— he’s getting hurt and she’s watching from his eyes and she can’t do anything about it. He cries out for his father, for the man promised to be there, and he dies alone and staring at a bloody crowbar, his blue eyes going dull in the reflection of his own blood.

She wakes up screaming and feeling empty and with the Phoenix on her wrist looking like nothing more than a pile of ash, red feathers and glowing eyes going blurry and dark. There is nott enough light in the world to make her chest hurt any less and her parents hold her as she cries but don’t speak; there is nothing that could be said to comfort someone in the face of a loss like this.

She learns what it is like to be alone for the first time in her life and she no longer knows how to dream.

17-years-old and Marinette is standing at the bottom of the eiffel tower, ruination around her, swirling and teetering on the edge of death, surrounding her like a wet blanket, the water of horror digging deep into her bones. She has watched her comrades die for her and she has watched them protect her with everything in them, believing that she will win. Believing that she will bring them back— and she does, and they’re safe, but nothing can change the fact that she will always remember what her loved one’s looked like dead, empty eyes staring right at her.

She did not win against Hawkmoth, not really, not when she has lost so much. She casts her cure and she returns home with the two recovered miraculouses, a heavy heart, and enough trauma to last a lifetime.

She knew what it felt like to mourn someone she never met but now she learns how it feels to grieve two people at once, even when they are still alive.

19-years-old and Marinette is staring at the fire that consumed the bakery, her home, her parents. She saw too many horrible, traumatic things that it takes a couple seconds to register that  _ this is it, they’re not coming back _ . Because yes, she has seen the world end but no, the world did not end. She is used to being able to fix things that are broken in a way that makes sure they never broke but this is not one of those things and her parents are not some of the people whose lives she has the luxury of saving.

She is desperate to run and she is desperate to fight but there is no longer a battle in Paris. Her instincts tell her to  _ go, go, run _ ,  _ don’t look back and don’t think about the bodies left behind _ , so she does and she ends up in Gotham and she ends up looking at familiar gargoyles and familiar streets and feels an ache so wide inside her heart she’s surprised it’s still beating.

She owns a small bakery on the corner of crime alley that is the only neutral ground in seemingly all of Gotham and she learns how to bake without crying at the scent of baked bread, turning her grief into comfort as she’s surrounded by her parent’s smell and memories of her childhood— she shares that comfort with any kids who come in looking for a safe place to spend the night.

21-years-old and Marinette has built herself a home; the building is old but warm and drenched in magic. She found all the other Miraculous boxes and lets the Kwamis roam free inside of her apartment, there’s over a hundred of them in total but she bonded with them all and, in return, they love her. She is the Guardian; both a monster and a protector at once.

The kids flock to her like moths to a flame and over the years she has gained all of their trust. She asks for nothing in return when she gives them food and medicine and a warm place to sleep. There’s magic on the doors that lead to rooms full of bunk beds and closets with food and medical supplies and sleeping bags and all is welcome— the kids know about the Kwamis and they know that she is safe, in a world that has taught them to fear everything, she is safe.

They call her the Guardian or Lady luck and she learns how to have a family again without being terrified of losing them.

23-years-old and Marinette has just saved one of her kids from Scarecrow. It is not the first time and it will not be the last. There are those that are terrified of her, gang leaders and villains that won’t step foot onto her land— but these are her kids, these are her people, this is her home and she will not feel guilty for protecting them.

She is polite to Batman and the other vigilantes, she has made friends with the Sirens, and she knows her way around Gotham and she knows when there is a problem that needs to be solved. She does not know what to make of Red Hood or the dreams that come with him or how her fingers tremble when one of the older kids comes through the bakery’s doors with a crowbar tucked under her arm.

She does not know how to make her mind any lighter, she does not know how to get rid of the darkness but she learns that there is such a thing as healing with time.

24-years-old and Marinette comes home from patrol and finds her balcony’s doors open and the living room smelling like blood. She sees Red Hood’s eyes for the first time and she does not cry, she does not fall, and she does not flinch. They are blue and more angry than sad and guilty— so, so guilty— but she knows them well. Her wrist burns and the Phoenix rises again from the ashes, and she no longer feels so alone.

She patches Hood—  _ Jason _ , his name is Jason— up and she still does not fall over but her knees are weak, so very weak because he’s  _ here  _ and he’s  _ alive  _ and  _ oh my God _ . She does not ask about the bullet wound but she asks about the sickly and tainted magic clinging to his skin. He tells her about waking up in the Lazarus Pit and when asked, she tells him about a boy in white and the moon cracked in half in the sky.

They do not know each other’s past well, they do not know so many things but they know that they don’t want to lose each other again. They do not know what to do next but she learns not to question it because her soulmate is alive and that’s good enough for her.

26-years-old and Marinette is getting married under a sky full of stars and the hands in hers are warm and there’s nothing cold about her life. She has her home, she has her kids and bakery and she has her Kwamis. She has Jason and he isn’t gentle but he is kind and he knows how to hold her just right when she feels like falling apart. She is kind and soft and knows how to hold him when he feels like the madness is getting worse again.

She is happy for one of the first times in years and she knows that, despite it all, she’d go through it again if it meant she could end up here; happy in her husband's arms and cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

She has learned a lot and she’s not even 30, but she has learned how to love and how to be loved and how to always get up when she falls. She knows how to stand, feet firmly planted into the ground, and she knows how to not let herself get blown over when things get too hard.

But if she did happen to let herself fall?

Well, now there’s someone there to catch her.


	11. Wandering Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small fic where Ladybug and her kitty have a late night conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guy!! Hope you enjoy :D))  
> Any fics/certain things you want to see for any mlb (even rarepair) ships?

“What are you thinking about, M’lady?” Chat asked, leaning back on his hands.

His partner and him were doing their usual after-patrol hang out. Usually, it only lasted five or ten minutes as they talked about some superficial subject. Tonight, however, Ladybug had stayed swinging her legs over the edge of the Eiffel tower’s highest platform for an hour now— and well, Chat was always happy to stay with his lady for any extra time.

Life wasn’t exactly easy, perse, after Hawkmoth just… stopped. Both of them were busy gathering all and any information in trying to find the terrorist, leading them down a list of rather worrying suspects, but they didn’t have to fight Akumas days on and off. The worst part was worrying that Hawkmoth wasn’t simply taking a break but  _ planning _ .

Days like these weren’t too bad, though; seeing friends, tracking down the bad guy with his partner, then getting to relax as he looks out onto the night.

She was mostly silent, shifting a couple times to get comfortable but she mostly just stared out at the city both of them protected.

Chat wondered what she saw, what she felt. Nighttime always meant freedom for him, but they were so different, so unique in different ways that he couldn’t even pretend to know what was going on in her head most of the time.

Besides, she was smart— so, so smart and creative that it scared him sometimes.

Not that he would tell her that, but he also knew they weren’t on the same level.

“I don’t know,” Ladybug stretched her arms over her head slightly and Chat was entranced by the way her back arched, by the lights shining off of her suit and the gleam in her eyes as she glanced over at him. She was devastating, looking that beautiful. It made his heart hurt. “I just… I think that our soul’s weren’t meant for this place, not really.”

“What do you mean?” Chat asked, tilting his head— he wouldn’t disagree with his lady without knowing her thought process or even the basis of why she thought that, but he also knew that his soul and hers, well, they were always meant to be here, finding each other.

“Look at them, Chat,” She waves a hand to the city below them; it was quiet mostly, but people were still moving through the streets, shops were busy closing and tourists sought out hotels and as night owls found their way back home. “Look at  _ us _ . Everyone is so busy trying to escape themselves, trying to lose themselves into things and passions and other people. I mean, people create art and music and books because they like to get lost into a different reality. I do it too, and I guess I just feel like people weren’t ever meant to have the responsibility of creating a life for themselves. I think we were always meant to wonder, to be able to find things to care about so much that nothing is without love. Can you imagine that, Chat? A world so full of love that everything seems infinite?”

Chat smiled ruefully and glanced back at the city below them.

_ A world full of love? _ He.. he couldn’t even understand what that would mean. His mother used to love him— he used to have someone who truly, honestly, adored him. But now? He didn’t know what it felt like to be loved anymore, even if he understood what it was like to love others.

But the way his lady had asked that, eyes bright and back straight and mouth pulled up into a curious wonder— it made him feel like he could be loved one day. That sometime in the future, his life will be overflowing with people who won’t use affection like a weapon, who won’t threaten to take any shred of it away if he disobeyed like his father did.

So Chat said, “Yeah, LB. I can imagine that.” because even if he is lonely, how sad would it be to not believe that somewhere in the world, someone knows how it feels to be infinite and drunk on love?


End file.
